Satin Blaze
by D-chan
Summary: various pairings :: sequel to Velvet Flames :: story 2 of 4 :: After four years of searching for the Sword of Baltanders, Orphen finally arrives in Totokanta, where he not only finds the sword but several other surprises. SECOND ARC FINISHED
1. Prologue: Lovely Shaltanou

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, possible/eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, weirdness  
  
Notes: Eh... I know in Velvet Flames I kept promising eventual Orphen/Majic, but when it started to get long in chapters I decided to turn this into a series. I've REALLY deteriorated from my original idea, but this is fun anyway. No longer does the plot focus on the Tower of Fangs, but now around and in Totokanta! Fun! ^^  
  
Thanks to my muse, the almighty Kat-chan who should be worshiped for her god-like musing skills, for the idea for the prologue. XD  
  
  
  
  
He was gorgeous. That's all there was too it, really. He was easily handsome with his messy brown hair and slanted, red-tinted eyes, his body just beginning to finish growing into that of a young adult. He had the trademark broad shoulders of a man, the natural narrowing of the hips and long very, VERY nice legs.  
  
Yes, she was definitely interested now.  
  
With a flip of her curly dark hair, the young woman stood and made her way over to the man sitting at the counter, his eyes closed as he sipped at his soda, appearing almost bored. He didn't even notice her, which irked her at first, but then maybe he was just dense. She took a seat just beside him, smiling coyly in his direction. Still he kept his eyes downcast, his expression blank. She had to cough to finally get his attention.  
  
"Hi," she said in what she believed was a throaty, sexy voice. If he thought so, he didn't show it. Instead he simply blinked before looking away again. She frowned. "I said, hello," she tried again. This time he blatantly ignored her.  
  
Hard to get, eh? She was used to it. She slid her stool closer to his, making sure to bump his leg with her own. "So what brings you to Shaltanou?" she questioned, referring to the town.  
  
He finally looked at her, glancing down at the knee pressing into his thigh and said in a cool voice, "Would you mind removing your knee? It's unpleasant."  
  
For a moment she felt like he'd slapped her, but no, that wasn't possible. He was just very GOOD at the hard-to-get game. She always won and she loved a challenge.  
  
She smiled quickly, complying. "Of course. My apologies."  
  
Then he went right back to ignoring her. She attempted to start a conversation many times, but he played deaf until he finally snapped at her.  
  
"Excuse me," he said curtly, getting to his feet. "I'd like my bill," he said to the bartender.  
  
"Of course," the stubby, middle-aged man responded, disappearing into the kitchen.  
  
The young woman laid a soft hand on the young man's shoulder, not noticing his left eyebrow twitching. "Please," she murmured. "I just... Want to get to know you," she said innocently, moving closer to his ear until she was breathing in it.  
  
The young man jerked away but she went right after him, unfortunately knocking them both over in a rather embarrassing position for the world to see. She laughed just as the bartender came back, slip of paper in hand.  
  
He took one look at the scene and went white. "What the hell is this?!" he roared.  
  
The young woman suddenly jerked off the man, turning a piteous look on the older man. "Oh, Daddy," she wailed. "He was putting the moves on me! He touched me, asked me if I liked it... And then... And then..." She sniffled.  
  
The young man leapt to his feet, glaring daggers at the young woman. "What kind of idiot daughter do you have?" he said angrily. "If anything, SHE was putting the moves on ME--"  
  
He didn't get a chance to finish. "Get out!" the bartender spluttered, running around the counter and to his daughter's side, helping the sobbing girl up. No tears fell from her eyes, but the old man was obviously not only biased, but convinced. "Get out of this TOWN. We don't need men like you corrupting our daughters!"  
  
The man said tightly, "Only on one condition. Tell me where the Sword of Baltanders is."  
  
"I don't know what rubbish you speak of," the bartender barked. "OUT!"  
  
Thoroughly disgusted and somewhat disappointed, the wandering sorcerer turned on his heel and promptly left, happy, for once, to be kicked out of town. 


	2. Chapter One: Old and New

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, language, cheap excuse for a cliffhanger (^^;;; Please don't kill me...)  
  
Notes: *claps* Fun fun fun! I'm inspired for this, with many thanks to Kat-chan, the Ultimate Muse-chan, and Ivy-san, who is also an excellent muse. They both gave me fantastic ideas for this. ^^  
  
Don't worry, Alz-san. Cleao and others will show up. ... Eventually. ^^;;  
  
And Tri, calm down! oO;; I'm going to have it eventually, but I'm not sure WHEN. This is turning out to be a lot longer and more complicated than I expected.  
  
Oh! Remember in chapter fifteen of Velvet Flames how I mentioned that Morikubo Shoutarou-san plays Goh from Pretear as well as Orphen? Well, if you look hard enough for Pretear music, you'll be lucky enough to find that Goh has an image song. It's called "The Great Journey" and it's one of those fun songs that you just want to sing along to once you know some of the lyrics. I'm listening to it as I type this and am picturing Orphen singing. ^^;; A li~ttle weird, but he has a REALLY great voice!  
  
I wish the Orphen cast had image songs. T_T  
  
Spell Translations:  
  
Ware odoru, ten no roukaku - I dance in thee, mansion of heaven  
Ware wa hanatsu, hikari no hakujin - I release thee, Light's Unsheathed Blade (I HOPE you guys know this one; I'm only explaining each spell once)  
  
  
  
  
Orphen raised a hand to shield his eyes against the rising sun, a soft sigh escaping his lips. After nearly two days of traveling both on foot and by hitchhiking rides on carriages, he had arrived at the town closest to Shaltanou. It was just down the hill, yards away from the rim of the forest he was standing at. Civilization. Hopefully this one would be more helpful than the last. In all honesty, he was tired of searching.  
  
Ever since leaving the Tower of Fangs, Orphen had changed quite a bit. He was no longer fifteen years old, for one. In the past four years he had grown taller, hardship having transformed his childlike features into a face that was almost scary.  
  
Of course, that was a matter of opinion. His slanted eyes were described as either frightening or beautiful. His cool expression was either off-putting or intriguing. His personality and mannerisms were either rude and disgraceful or pleasant and smooth, depending on the mood one caught him in.  
  
He refused to don the regulated robes worn by students from the Tower; he had ever since the day of his escape. He still kept the pendant, his only keepsake of the one he cared about most, though he had gotten rid of the old T-shirt and pants once he'd gotten a hold of some money and found a town with decent clothes. Over time he'd eventually found the style he really liked, which was incidentally what he wore now. It was basically just hiking boots, leather pants, a dull brown shirt under a dark gray-and-white vest and a red strip of cloth he wrapped around his forehead once, tying it off in a knot and allowing the tails to whip around in the wind as they pleased.  
  
Orphen stepped forward, leisurely making his way down the hill. The lush field grass was soft, folding easily and neatly beneath his footsteps. Dew still sparkled on the ground, soaking through the stitching of his boots and dampening his feet, making them a bit cold. Actually, it was a pleasant feeling. He'd been traveling areas that had been like deserts as of late, so cold dew in the morning was actually refreshing.  
  
He came to a stop at some sign mere meters from the first house. His arm came to rest on the somewhat faded sign, his sienna-coloured eyes taking in the crudely painted-on words. "Totokanta," he read aloud, a faint smile on his lips. Perhaps here would lie what he was searching for.  
  
Something about the name was tugging at the strings of a memory hidden somewhere in the back of his mind, but when he tried to pursue the thought it vanished, leaving him vaguely confused.  
  
Ah, well. It probably wasn't important anyway.  
  
It was early morning, so adults were just beginning to open their shops, getting ready for a new day. Orphen was one of the early customers, so he could enjoy the tranquility before the madness began.  
  
"Excuse us, SIR!"  
  
The last word ended in practically a screech, grinding the back of Orphen's teeth together in a most horrific way. He turned and glanced down, seeing exactly what he had expected to: a small child, staring up at him with large eyes. It took him a moment to realize there were TWO short children; one giving him a dramatic, teary-eyed look and the other cowering behind him, head bent as though embarrassed and eyes hidden by large, rather ridiculous glasses.  
  
"What?" he asked, the question coming out more irritable than it would have been if he were more awake. Orphen was not a morning person.  
  
"Please," the loud child begged in a scratchy nasal voice that only succeeded in making the older man cringe. "We're desperately poor. We need money. Could a wandering pilgrim such as yourself do so much good as to lend us some?"  
  
Orphen looked them both over critically before he said in a somewhat tight voice, "If you can afford a fur-lined cape like that, I doubt you're that bad off." With that said, he turned and began to walk off once more.  
  
The children (at least the whiny one; the other was oddly silent as he followed his brother) tagged along, right on his heels. Several times they literally threatened to trip him up. They continued to ask for money, sometimes making an odd remark such as, "Someday when I, Vulcan-sama, become ruler of the continent, you will wish on your dream's grave that you lent the poor children just a bit of money!"  
  
While Orphen's line of patience had grown relatively longer since he'd first departed from the Tower of Fangs, it was wearing thin very quickly with this brat and his silent partner following him everywhere. He purposely tried to lose them several times until he finally caved.  
  
"All RIGHT," he snapped, pulling out a few good-sized coins from the small travel pouch tied to his belt and resisting the urge to ram it down The Annoying One's throat. "Just take it and leave me the hell alone."  
  
"Ah, the sir is kind," the nasal one said in what was obviously false respect, bowing.  
  
Before the two could disappear from sight completely, an idea came to the sorcerer and he quickly grabbed a hold of the back of their capes, smiling what many would undoubtedly consider an evil smile. "Let's say," he said smoothly, but in such a way the two were clearly creeped out, "that you return the same amount of money I lent you in a time span of... Two weeks?"  
  
At first the loud one had looked frightened, but then some confidence returned when Orphen set down the two-week time span. "Deal." Obviously, he believed the sorcerer would forget about the deal by then.  
  
"Good," said Orphen calmly. "See you in two weeks."  
  
While not entirely essential to his trip, the encounter HAD been briefly amusing. Shaking his head and straightening up, a flash of something golden caught his eye. Something clicked in the back of his mind as he whirled to see where that odd flash of colour had come from.  
  
There... From some boy. He was dressed in rather warm clothes for what was progressively becoming a hot day, but from his expression he was clearly used to it. Orphen would have gotten a closer look, but by then the streets were so crowded that when he blinked he lost sight of him.  
  
He hadn't lost sight of the two kids, though. Once again, he stopped them in their tracks, this time lifting them high into the air.  
  
"You two," he demanded. "Do you know about any annoying blonde brats around here?"  
  
The loud one that had called himself Vulcan-sama blinked. "Annoying brats..."  
  
"Blonde?" the other one finally spoke up, sounding quite thoughtful for someone so young. It mildly startled Orphen. "Well, everyone knows of the Everlasting daughters..."  
  
"Just daughters?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Somewhat disappointed, Orphen fairly dropped the two and blatantly ignored Vulcan's cursing. He couldn't be sidetracked with small problems. He had to find the Sword of Baltanders at all costs. It made HIM swear violently when he realized he could have asked the two brats about it. The one with glasses had seemed half intelligent at least, even though he couldn't be too smart if he was hanging out with children like that Vulcan brat.  
  
He glanced around, grimacing slightly at the sight of so many people. This was a bigger town than it seemed from a distance. Finding the Sword was going to take a while...  
  
  
  
Needless to say, the first few hours of his random asking around had gotten him nowhere. Once he'd accidently asked the same person twice even! There were just too many people to keep track of.  
Orphen sighed as he leaned against the wall of what looked like a tavern. He scratched the back of his head, contemplating his next step. The most helpful hint he'd gotten was that the local rich family, the Everlastings, had many precious items. It might be best for him to start there and work his way down, supposedly.  
  
The mansion should be easy enough to find. While the town wasn't exactly small, most of the homes were. A mansion should stand out like silver in a gold pile, right? Musing to himself, Orphen used one hand to gently push himself away from the wall. In doing so he nearly ran headlong into a couple of children running by.  
  
Glancing in the direction they'd gone, he saw that they were the same two he had seen earlier.  
  
"Stop!"  
  
Orphen inclined his head slightly. A young woman was running after them, though it was clear she was far too close to catch up. Her wavy golden hair fluttered as she ran, her blue eyes widening in surprise when Orphen caught her by the arms, avoiding collision.  
  
"Something wrong?" he asked calmly.  
  
She blushed, turning her head away. Clearly she had been brought up learning proper mannerisms. "Ah... I... It's silly, actually, I just dropped my purse and then--"  
  
Orphen scowled; he didn't need to hear any more. He'd lent money to thieves. Well, that could be amended quickly and easily.  
  
"Ware odoru, ten no roukaku," he muttered. There was a very faint prickling sensation in his arms, legs and forehead and then a moment later he was within two feet of the running children. But he wasn't going to give them the chance to knock him over!  
  
"Ware wa hanatsu, hikari no hakujin!" He made careful the blast was harmless; it should only have knocked them back a few feet.  
  
"AH! N-Niisan!" the one with glasses yelped pitifully. Orphen blinked in mild surprise; it had only stunned them. They were tougher than he'd given them credit for. No matter; stunning was fine.  
  
He quickly knelt before them, snatching the cream-coloured handbag from the spiky-haired one he knew to call Vulcan. "Thank you," he said with false cheer. "But I'm sure she could have handled it on her own."  
  
He stood, plating one foot firmly on Vulcan's chest. "Don't go anywhere," he threatened. "Or the next blast will be sure to maim you both." The smaller one, of whom Orphen still didn't know his name, looked frightened as he automatically clutched Vulcan's cape for some sort of support.  
  
Removing his foot from the strange child's chest, the young sorcerer calmly walked back to the pretty young woman and fairly tossed it to her. "Here," he said lightly, smiling to put her at ease. "They shouldn't cause you trouble again." And before she could respond he was walking away once again, clearly not wanting or needing thanks.  
  
"Now," he mused. "What to do with the two of you, hm?" He smirked. "Ah, I know. You can point out the Everlasting manor to me."  
  
The timid one chose to speak. "Ah, sir--"  
  
"You idiot sorcerer," Vulcan interrupted vehemently, pushing the smaller boy aside and spitting out the word 'sorcerer' as though it were a horrible curse. "That girl WAS of the Everlasting ma--"  
  
Orphen delivered a swift, sharp-knuckled punch to his head, not too surprised when it didn't knock him out. These children WERE hardheaded. "Who's the idiot?" he asked in annoyance. "How old are you two, anyway?"  
  
"Niisan is nearly eighteen, sir."  
  
"DORTIN!" The one with the ridiculously large glasses earned a kick in the face. Orphen, however, was having difficulty digesting the fact the loud, annoying, overly arrogant brat was almost eighteen. The smaller of the two seemed to be the most honest, though.  
  
"Fine," he muttered, grabbing Vulcan by the ear and lifting him into the air. "I need to keep an eye on you two. I don't trust you to not run away now."  
  
Vulcan was ignoring him, however, as he shrieked at his little brother. "Dortin, what are you doing?! Kick him in the balls or share the same fate as I! We are one in the same, do you hear me?!"  
  
"All right then," said Orphen, grabbing the one called Dortin by the ear as well. He didn't feel a bit guilty; anyone stupid enough to tag along with this idiot deserved similar treatment. "You can BOTH come with me. Your information may come in handy at some point." The last statement was referring to Dortin, naturally.  
  
Ignoring the bemused and shocked stares of nearby onlookers, Orphen carried the two back to the tavern he had been near earlier. It had seemed a decent place to stay at, and it was only going to be until he found out whether or not the Sword of Baltanders was at the mansion, right?  
  
"Hello," he called, walking through the front door as though he lived there.  
  
A middle-aged man turned, seeming not surprised. "Welcome," he greeted. "May I get you anything?"  
  
'Well, he certainly LOOKS the part of a tavern owner,' thought Orphen in half-amusement. He was some good few inches shorter than the sorcerer himself, wearing a hat that didn't completely cover the fact he was balding underneath. What hair he did have was a dusty brown, and his eyes were so small they were hard to tell what colour they were.  
  
"Sure," Orphen agreed, dropping the two. "These two need to do a little work for me--"  
  
"WHAT?!" bellowed Vulcan, his outcry going unnoticed by everyone else.  
  
"--To pay back a crime they committed earlier today. I'd also like a room, just for me; I don't care what happens to these two after they're finished, and maybe an ice cream soda while we're at it," Orphen finished.  
  
"Not a problem," the man replied, not at all bothered by the younger man's requests. He walked over to a doorway that lead to a short hallway and a flight of stairs. "Are you busy?" he called to someone unseen.  
  
"Not right now, Father," came the reply. The voice was a little girlish; probably his preteen daughter. The observation was made dimly in the back of Orphen's mind, barely noticed by his conscious thoughts as he took a seat at the bar, glaring at the two midgets as though saying, "I DARE you to run off."  
  
"Could you set up a room and bring down some cleaning supplies? We have a little extra help tonight."  
  
"Okay!"  
  
Orphen watched as the man walked back behind the counter, grabbing a tall clean glass. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?" the sorcerer asked, sounding almost bored. He got no response as the bartender fixed his rather sugary drink and handed it to him "I might be here a while, so unless you don't mind me calling you 'old man' all the time," the young man explained, stirring the scoop of vanilla-flavoured ice cream before taking a sip.  
  
"Old man is fine, actually," the bartender replied. "But if you must, my name is Bagup Lyn."  
  
"I set up a clean room and got the supplies, Father!" the girlish voice said as someone walked into the room. Orphen, still startled by the mention of the surname Lyn turned and stared.  
  
It wasn't a preteen girl but a young teenage boy that stood there. He was staring at his father, wide, innocent blue eyes puzzled until he glanced in Orphen's direction. For a moment he simply stared until recognition registered. When it did, his eyes widened and the pupils contracted, his face paling beneath the soft cap of dusty gold hair. The armful of mops and the empty bucket slipped from his hands as they both spoke at the same time, one shocked and the other frightened.  
  
"Orphen-sama?"  
  
"MAJIC?" 


	3. Chapter Two: Two Steps Back

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, Majic+Orphen, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, shounen ai, angst  
  
Notes: Eh heh. *sweatdrop* Finally found out Majic's father's real name. Fixed it. Oops. ^^;  
  
And thanks to Chevira-san for helping with this! Wow, Kat-chan didn't have to muse for me once on this one. But she's helping very much with the upcoming SSO Christmas fic...  
  
*innocent* Didn't I mention that? *smile* Hehe, keep an eye out for it... Sheer Orphen/Majic goodness, I can assure you... And extreme AU. And did I mention extremely Cleao-friendly? ^^;;  
  
  
  
  
"So this is the mighty sorcerer, Orphen," said Majic's father some time later.  
  
Once he'd gotten over the initial shock of the situation, Orphen had found it amusing. Majic had been so stunned that he'd dropped everything he'd been holding right on his foot. The mops weren't the cheap kind, so they were made of hard, heavy wood that had clearly hurt the boy.  
  
Majic didn't find it amusing at all. At the moment he was sulking in a chair, his entire face bright red and his eyes fixed on the wooden floorboards as his ankle rested on one knee. He was using his right hand to massage the injured foot, all the while being extremely cautious not to look up, even while the others talked.  
  
"My son spoke of you often," Bagup said calmly. "You were the role model sorcerer, it seems. Or perhaps that's just what he made it look like?" At that Majic blushed even harder and sunk low into the chair.  
  
Orphen smirked faintly, sipping at his soda. "Well, I guess I'm pretty good," he replied as though he were used to it-- Which, in fact, he was after four years. Over time he'd started to use his own kind of magic, fine-tuning it until it was near perfection. The Tower of Fangs' magic was lost to him now... Not that it was such a big loss.  
  
"You don't take after your father much, do you?" the young sorcerer asked of the teenage boy. Majic mumbled something unintelligible, but it was his father that directly answered Orphen's question.  
  
"He takes after his mother, obviously," Bagup said.  
  
"I see." Orphen's hand flickered up to the heavy pendant hanging from his neck, thinking of how Azari had, at times, been like a mother to him. He remembered Hartia telling him Majic's mother had died when he was four. Did Majic remember her at all? Was she painful to think about, as it pained him to think of Azari?  
  
"He gets his magical heritage from her as well." This time both Orphen and Majic looking up, the former surprised and the latter pale. It wasn't often sorcerers intermarried with the non-magical kind. Usually the two were fighting, the non-magical terrified of the sorcerers' powers and the sorcerers disgusted by their discrimination.  
  
But then, it wasn't as though it were entirely because of humans. There were several "bad" sorcerers, the kind that liked to use their power to their advantage. Several had tried to take over towns, a few even countries, but all were shot down by both the non-magical and "good" sorcerers. However, because of the few rebellious black magic practicers (all sorcerers practiced black magic but not all abused the privilege; there was a big difference) all sorcerers had been given a bad name.  
  
This was why humans and sorcerers stood where they did today.  
  
"You're not a sorcerer?" Orphen questioned mildly.  
  
Bagup Lyn smiled thinly. "Not at all. But don't think that means I mind them. My wife proved that there were very kindhearted sorcerers out there."  
  
Ah, of only more humans shared such common sense. "I see," Orphen repeated, glancing over at Majic. The teenager was no longer embarrassed or frightened, but he did look rather thoughtful. He was back to staring at the floor, but this time without intent. He didn't seem to notice his father and former classmate watching him.  
  
"Ah... Father," he finally said. "Tomorrow... You know... May I go?" he asked, dancing around the subject directly as though he didn't want Orphen to know about it, which only made the older man slightly more curious. But even as he considered prying into the boy's business, he reminded himself that he had business tomorrow. He had to go to the Everlasting mansion and see if the family knew anything about the sword.  
  
"Of course," was the almost soft response. "After your chores are finished."  
  
"Yes, sir." Majic stood, testing his foot gingerly before deciding it wasn't hurt too badly. "Um... I'm going to finish cleaning upstairs." His walk was rather hurried, like he was resisting the urge to run. Huh. Orphen always knew the boy was strange.  
  
Something felt out of place, though. Orphen frowned faintly, trying to pinpoint the strange feeling that something was amiss. Then suddenly he knew...  
  
"Ware wa hanatsu, hikari no hakujin!" The two trolls that had been trying to sneak out the front door received a smart blast, not big enough to do damage to any nearby furniture but enough to stop them in their tracks. "You two," he said in annoyance, jerking a thumb at the mops and pails Majic had dropped earlier. "Get cleaning-- Or I'll never let you live it down!"  
  
  
  
Never had Majic felt such a need to hit his head against the wall. Hard. Repeatedly.  
  
The blonde boy ran his fingers through fine blonde hair, sighing heavily. That had been one of the most tense moments he could recall in his entire life-- And living at the Tower of Fangs had ALWAYS been tense.  
  
So it seemed he'd really left. He really had abandoned the Tower, his friends, his name, and his past. In a way it was sad, but he had seemed just fine without it all... Was he really coping? Had he already helped Azari, and if so, where was she? Why wasn't he with her? He HAD loved her... Right?  
  
Majic shook his head to shake off the sinking feeling in his stomach. 'No, no, no,' he mentally scolded himself. 'You're not nine years old anymore. You're OVER all that. Orphen-sama... Orphen-SAN is probably just passing by. Then he can be gone before Father finds out that... I was...'  
  
He sighed again, shaking his head furiously before opening a hallway closet and taking out a rag. He could finish dusting Orphen's room quickly and then run back to his own before he was noticed.  
  
The room used to belong to his mother and father, actually. But after Marissa had died, Bagup had moved his belongings to a smaller room, opening the larger one for the customers. Majic resented him for it at times; sometimes he used to just stand in the middle of the room and close his eyes, the sights, scents and feels of the old room and his mother returned. Touching the warm blanket, he could feel and see nothing but the handmade quilt his mother had stitched herself. She had been a master in the home arts; sewing, cooking, cleaning, everything. A few of these Majic had inherited himself. He could make a decent meal from scratch, though he was far from a culinary chef. He could mend tears in clothes. He still hadn't gotten the hang of hiding the stitches, but at least the fabric would always hold a good few days, sometimes weeks longer.  
  
And he could clean. But that, of course, anyone could do. His useful eye for catching a spot of dust missed was more from the past few years living here with his father, growing up to learn the ways of a successful tavern owner.  
  
However, in the back of Majic's mind, he knew that this was far from where he wanted to settle. He wanted to go out into the world and make good use of himself-- With magic.  
  
He smiled faintly. It was a dream long lost since the day he had been expelled from the Tower of Fangs. He simply couldn't conjure the spells the Tower required. Something, he reasoned, was blocking his mind from doing it. He wasn't sure what, but he did know it interfered horribly with his studies at the Tower. That had been one of many reasons Flameheart had expelled him, and to those concerned at the Tower, it had been the most important.  
  
Of course, Flameheart had disliked him from the start anyway. Apparently, he had been "too weak looking" and "too innocent." Oh, and he couldn't forget that he had hero-worshiped one of Childman's students, Krylancelo. That was akin to sinning in Flameheart's eyes.  
  
"Am I interrupting?"  
  
Jolted by the new voice, Majic's head swung up, his round blue eyes meeting directly with slanted amber. He could feel heat rising up his neck and to his face, but when as he was fighting it he said, "No, no! Sorry, I was just thinking. Ah... Good night, Orphen-sa--n," he said hastily, trying to make his way around the young man and slip out before any opportunities to question him arose.  
  
Lazily, almost as though he were interpreting Majic's moves, Orphen rested a hand on the door frame, a lazy smile touching his lips. The young boy nervously wondered if he'd caught the slip of honorary. "Actually, I wanted to ask a few questions before either of us turn in."  
  
Seeing no way to escape, Majic reluctantly accepted his fate, though he didn't do so before taking a few good paces back and diverting his eyes elsewhere. "Um... Okay."  
  
"Relax. I was mostly just wondering where the Everlasting manor was."  
  
Majic let out a long, slow breath, wanting to sag against the wall in relief. "Oh, easy... Just go left when you step outside the tavern, walk down the road until you reach the g-graveyard, and you'll see it not too far away," he said, only stammering once.  
  
Sienna-coloured eyes narrowed slightly. Majic thought that Orphen was a lot more intimidating now than he ever had been at the Tower of Fangs, minus the time he had nearly attacked the boy while in a strange dreamlike state. It wasn't just that he was older, taller, but there was a cold glint in his eyes that simply hadn't been there before.  
  
"Hm. Would you mind taking me there tomorrow, then?"  
  
Majic stiffened, hand clutching the rag in his hand until his knuckles were white. "Why?" he barely managed to whisper. He couldn't keep up the relaxed act for long; he just wasn't capable of hiding his emotions for long. He was even worse when it came to lying.  
  
"You're going there tomorrow anyway, aren't you?"  
  
Majic shook his head. "To the mansion? No, I've never--"  
  
Orphen scowled. "Not the mansion, you dolt. The cemetery. You're going, aren't you?"  
  
The blonde boy bit his lower lip, inwardly screaming. How had he found out? He couldn't be THAT easy to read, could he?! "Good night, Orphen-san," was all he could manage to say before shoving the young man's arm away from the door frame so he could run past him easily. The spiky-haired young man made no move to stop him, nor did he resist against the push. And, to Majic's great relief, he simply walked inside the room and closed the door behind him.  
  
Majic entered his room, tossing the rag carelessly to the ground. He could wash it tomorrow; now he was too upset.  
  
'Why? After all these years, why did he have to show up in Totokanta NOW?' he thought, sitting on the edge of his bed and unlacing his leather boots. 'Why did he have to show up at all?'  
  
It wasn't that he hated Orphen; that wasn't it at all! It was just that he'd simply been able to push the sorcerer into the back of his mind and almost forget about him. He'd started to think that his "feelings" he'd had when he was younger were just normal emotions that every child had when they had someone to look up to. It had been easy to disregard every emotion that he'd even thought remotely romantic... But now that he was here, he was older, he was so much more attractive, he was so much more MATURE... Majic couldn't help but sink under the flood of feelings.  
  
He sighed, shaking his head. 'No. Don't think like that. He won't be here long. I don't know why he wants to see the Everlastings, but it can't be anything that would keep him here. There's nothing HERE for him.'  
  
Maybe that was what depressed him most. Torn between wanting Orphen to leave and wishing he would stay, Majic tried to force himself to sleep. Of course, because he was so anxious, his dreams weren't exactly something he would come to call pleasant...  
  
  
  
Orphen walked down the stairs into the tavern dining room the next afternoon, yawning loudly and openly as he entered. He'd only just woken up; he liked to sleep late when he wasn't in a hurry to get anywhere.  
  
Perhaps it was just him, but something had felt amiss when he'd woken up. Nothing was missing; his pendant had been on the nightstand, right where he had left it before going to sleep, nothing of his had been stolen... But there was a faint pinpricking sensation on his forehead, kind of similar to the tingles one felt after being lightly slapped.  
  
Vulcan and Dortin were nowhere to be seen; they had most likely slipped out the first chance they'd gotten. No matter, they should be easy enough to locate if he ever needed them (though why he would he had no idea). A mother and her child were the only other customers, Bagup was washing dishes behind the counter and Majic seemed to be busy making sure that the customers were content.  
  
Bagup was the first to greet him, surprisingly enough. "Good morning, young sorcerer."  
  
"Morning, old man," Orphen said easily. He noticed Majic's eyes flickered his way, but they just as quickly diverted when he tried to meet them. Curious. He was acting even more nervous this morning than he had last night.  
  
"Anything to eat?" Bagup asked.  
  
"Nah, that's fine." Orphen relaxed on a stool, content with simply watching the little activity going on around him. Majic quickly realized he was being observed, and because of it he grew even more flustered.  
  
"Mommy, I wanna go to the store," the little girl was whining, tugging on the woman's sleeve as she ate. "I want candy! I want a new toy! A pretty new dress! You're so MEAN! You never get me anything!"  
  
The woman sighed heavily, as though this were routine, but before she could say anything a pale hand came to rest on the little girl's head. The mother, child and Orphen both looked at Majic curiously as he smiled brightly at the little girl.  
  
"You shouldn't be so hard on your mother," he chastised gently. "Every moment with her will be precious."  
  
The little girl sulked at first, but Majic seemed to have the uncanny ability to cheer anyone up with a sweet smile, especially those of the female species. "Yeah," the girl agreed in a reluctant tone.  
  
The young mother smiled kindly. "You're a sweet boy."  
  
Majic blushed, his smile growing a bit more nervous. "Ah... Thank you, ma'am. Can I get you anything else?"  
  
"No, dear, we're fine. Thank you."  
  
Later, shortly after the mother and child gathered their belongings and left on the next carriage ride out, Orphen snuck up quietly behind the blonde teenager. Majic didn't notice him until a low voice murmured in his ear, "Do you speak from experience?"  
  
Majic yelped and coloured, turning so quickly they almost bumped heads. "Ah... Well..."  
  
Orphen folded his arms over his chest, nodding toward the door and to the left. "Why don't we go for a walk?"  
  
Seeing no way to escape, Majic hurried off to ask his father if it was all right for him to take his break now. In no time at all the two were walking toward the cemetery and Everlasting mansion.  
  
Orphen waited until they were clear from the streets teeming with people before he spoke. "When did your mother die, Majic?"  
  
The blue-eyed teen sighed heavily, running a trembling hand through his dusty gold hair. Some strands fell from their neat place and into his eyes. "Ah... When I was four. I don't remember her very well... But Father says she loved me very much." He remembered a little more than he was letting on, but Orphen didn't press.  
  
"I see." The pause that followed stretched to the point of snapping. Neither could think of much to say. Well, Orphen had a few questions, but he wasn't sure how to pose them. Finally, he decided that being direct was the only way he was going to ever get it. "Majic."  
  
"Y-yeah?"  
  
They were nearing the cemetery. Iron gates, some parts of it rusted, separated the tombstones from the road. Scattered on a few graves were mostly dead flowers. One particular tombstone was larger than the rest, gleaming pristine white among the battered grays. At this distance Orphen could only make out "J. Everlasting"; the rest was obscured by the bright sunlight.  
  
Tearing his eyes from the depressing land spot, he asked bluntly, "Did you ever tell your father that you were expelled from the Tower of Fangs?"  
  
Majic froze, fingers wrapped around the handle of the iron gate. "No," he whispered, looking even paler than usual.  
  
"Why not?" Perhaps it was just curiosity, perhaps some of his old fascination of the girlishly pretty young boy was rising again, perhaps he was just being annoying, but Orphen wanted to know.  
  
Majic seemed uncertain. "It... It's kind of complicated--"  
  
"I can assure you," the older sorcerer said grimly, "that I have more than enough time right now. So why don't you do us both a favor and start talking?" 


	4. Chapter Three: Petty Reasons

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, possible shounen ai, dark issues, angst, drama  
  
Notes: Um... it's a little short. ^^;; I'm sorry! But at least I got it done, ne? ^^;; Um... Not much to say this time. This chapter's basically just background story stuff, so it might be boring. I'm sorry!!  
  
  
  
  
Sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, giving the classic dining room a warm, homey look and feel. The wooden furniture didn't gleam, for polish was hard to come by in this town, but it was clean and did look nice. Every single chair and table in this room, he had carved it all from scratch. Over the years he had made and remade it all... And now it was, to him, perfection.  
  
With both customers and his son gone, it seemed all too quiet to Bagup. Quiet... Just as quiet as it had been for those five years his son had been gone, studying at the Tower of Fangs.  
  
Quiet, just as it had been after his wife had died.  
  
Bagup stopped pumping water into the basin; it was deep enough to wash dishes in now. Carefully, so as not to break the plates his wife had made herself, he piled the dirty dishes and utensils into the basin before rolling up his sleeves, grabbing a cloth and some soap, and he began his work.  
  
Clink. Clink. Clatter. Clink.  
  
The aging man closed his eyes briefly, thoughts meandering to his deceased wife. She had certainly been a character! It had been hard to tell she was a sorceress; anyone that just met her wouldn't be able to tell the difference. She had manners, not perfect of course, but she knew where the lines were drawn. She had cared deeply for children, none more so than their own son. But because of her love for children she had been exposed.  
  
She used to babysit for the local mothers. One day she had been watching over a set of twins and had taken them out to the nearby molasses shop to buy them some candy before their mother came home. She and Bagup had only just been married for two months and she was expecting a child of her own soon.  
  
The twins were a rambunctious pair. Twice they ignored her warnings not to play in the street whilst she bought the molasses and small mint-flavoured candies. Once they ran straight into an oncoming carriage, and had she not used her teleporting spell to grab them and take them out of harm's way they might have been injured, possibly dead.  
  
Of course, none of the villagers saw it that way. To them, she had purposely let them play in the street, hoping to save them and look like a hero. Her pleads of innocence had gone ignored, but since most of the villagers were against killing another human being, sorcerer or no, they had killed the next best thing-- Her child.  
  
Bagup had feared his wife wouldn't recover, but not three months later she was pregnant again. This time she delivered a healthy baby boy, whom she named Majic. It seemed she was determined to prove that even though she was a sorceress, she was still a good person.  
  
It worked, and yet it didn't. No one detested Majic; he was an unbelievably well mannered, sweet and an adorable child. He showed no signs of being able to use magic and was smart for his age so that he was ready to begin the first grade when he turned four. He'd been accepted... But Marissa had not.  
  
One night when out on a stroll she got caught in the rain. Naturally, she'd gotten a cold the next day, but had refused to rest. There were things to be done; the tavern was in the middle of indoor reconstruction and to her, rest was not an option. Even a day or two of it could set them behind. It would have, but she had worked through it all.  
  
The illness hadn't taken leave, though, even after she seemed to get better. Instead, if infested and grew, getting worse, eating her from the inside out. The morning they had gotten news of Majic being accepted into the local elementary school she had collapsed. At first it had just seemed like happiness, for she had been working so hard to have her son be accepted into society even if she could not be, but she had been burning with fever.  
  
Doctors refused to help the sorceress. If she was sick, then she could heal herself, right?  
  
She was too weak to use her powers. It had gotten to the point where she would cough up blood. Bagup had stayed with her as often as he could, Majic even more so. The little boy had obviously been worried for his mother. He would stay at her side all day. The first time she had coughed up blood Majic had screamed, but when his parents explained everything to him he had eventually come to accept it all quietly.  
  
Of course, he had cried first. He had said it was impossible; his mother couldn't die; she was too perfect for it. Even the angels couldn't touch her... But eventually it had sunk in that she was not, in fact, immortal... And that she would die soon.  
  
The memory of the day she died was crisp and clear in Bagup's mind. It had been cloudy out, without rain, and the air cool and damp, making it easy for Marissa to breathe her last breath. She had given Majic her wedding band for a momento, not wanting him to forget her. Her last breath, though, had been for her husband. A simple, "I love you" and then she was gone.  
  
Whilst the two Lyn males mourned, the villagers rejoiced. The local sorceress was gone. They could sleep peacefully now.  
  
Such words had and still did disgust Bagup. She hadn't done a thing to them, not a single thing. They were so fearful of her that they had ignored all the other horrible non-sorcerers... Killers, thieves, illegal drug dealers, they all paled in comparison to the sorceress that had never caused any harm.  
  
She had been banned from one town and the next, simply because she practiced black magic. Then she'd come to Totokanta, where nobody knew her face or reputation, and had been accepted for being such a wonderful person. She had gotten married, and then only Bagup knew of her secret. Once everyone else found out, they had not only wanted to kill her child, they wanted to kick her out.  
  
But her husband refused to abandon her, even in death. He had stood up for her. That was the only reason she had been able to stay; Bagup was a successful inn owner. Losing him would mean losing a big part of the tourism, because passers-by needed a place to sleep and Bagup's was the only in the town.  
  
His status had proved himself useful once. Should he ever need to use it again, he would... Especially if it was in the case of a sorcerer.  
  
  
  
Orphen had enough respect for the dead to not say anything as Majic pushed open the iron gates. Hinges squeaked as though they hadn't been oiled in years. The blonde boy crept into the graveyard with utter caution, to the extent it was nearly ridiculous. Honestly, the boy acted as though the dead were ready to awaken and attack him should he say anything!  
  
The older sorcerer followed, though he kept a respectable distance as the teenager came to a stop, kneeling carefully in front of a headstone. Then, to Orphen's surprise, he spoke.  
  
"Hi, Mama," he said softly. "Sorry I couldn't come last month. It's been awfully busy at the tavern lately."  
  
He spoke to his mother, even when she was dead? Orphen wasn't sure if this was odd, disturbing or touching. While he was trying to sort out his own opinion on it, Majic kept on talking as though Orphen weren't there.  
  
"Father says he'll come later tonight. Ah..." He looked embarrassed, staring down at his hands. They were folded neatly in his lap. "I'm sorry I didn't bring any flowers. I... Kind of got sidetracked. My mistake."  
  
Sienna-coloured eyes focused on him keenly. Sidetracked? A flower stand was easy to find in Totokanta; Orphen had run into an obscene amount of them just yesterday. Was he distracting the boy THAT much? This had to mean something... He just wasn't sure what. Maybe it just confirmed that Majic was a little on the crazy side.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mama." Azure-coloured eyes flickered toward Orphen. "This is Orphen-sama." There was no mistaking the high honorary, when just before Majic had tried to refer to him as an equal person. Strange child. "Ah... He's the really... Really good sorcerer I told you about." His face coloured when Orphen raised an eyebrow and he quickly turned to face the headstone. "And... Don't worry about the ring, Mama. It's in a safe place. I checked last night. It's perfectly safe."  
  
Now Orphen was lost. At the mention of a ring, however, his hand absently went to the thin chain beneath the thicker links holding the Tower of Fangs' pendant. He still had no idea who had given THAT to him, but he was still determined to give it to Azari... After he saved her.  
  
A pale hand went to the headstone. "I'll come back soon, Mama," he whispered. "I promise." Then he stood and turned away from Orphen, bringing his arm to his face... Was he crying?  
  
Orphen moved closer to the headstone, kneeling down to read the name. "Marissa Anne Lyn" was engraved there. What shocked Orphen were the words below it. "May angels watch over her in hell."  
  
"Majic," he said in an oddly tight voice. "Why is THIS on there?"  
  
The blonde boy turned, his eyes oddly shiny but he didn't seem to be crying anymore. He looked to where Orphen was pointing, having to lean closer to him to read where he was pointing. Then he looked uncomfortable. "Oh... That." He sighed. "Um... The villagers don't take to sorcerers well. Mama wasn't very popular with them... Father will probably have a similar wish on his tombstone when he dies."  
  
"For being associated with a sorceress?" the older man asked, trying to keep the disgust out of his voice.  
  
"For being married to one." Majic smiled slightly. "They don't hate me as much... They don't think I have any magical talent. So I'm all right, to them. I'm accepted. It's Father and Mama who were scorned. No one blames me; they say I'm just a child of a horrible mistake and that I shouldn't be treated badly for something I couldn't help. It wasn't my fault I was born from a woman like THAT, they say."  
  
Orphen was silent for a long moment. Then he stood and said, "Come on." Majic looked startled and he said in what he hoped was a controlled voice, "This isn't the place to discuss academics."  
  
Wincing, Majic stood. "Goodbye, Mama," he said one more time before following Orphen out.  
  
"Now, you can explain to me why people think you don't have any magical talent," the brunette said calmly once Majic closed the gates behind them. "And why your father doesn't know you were expelled... AND why you were expelled in the first place," he added. Hartia had simply told him Majic had been expelled. Too furious and disoriented at the time, Orphen had left the Tower before finding out WHY the blonde boy had been expelled. He'd been left in the dark.  
  
Orphen HATED being left in the dark.  
  
"I never practiced magic before," the blonde teen said softly, leaning against the gate and kicking at the dirt path. "I didn't even think I could do it until a passing sorcerer spent the night at the inn and said he could sense it. So... Father allowed me to go to the Tower."  
  
Orphen glanced at the slowly setting sun. Part of him was hoping this wouldn't take long; he wanted to get to the mansion today, after all. Another part of him was curious of Majic. And yet another part just wanted to stop and think over everything, because there was a big piece of the puzzle missing.  
  
"No one knew I went to the Tower to learn magic. They just think I went to study abroad and that I finally came back to work with Father." Majic heaved a depressed sigh, making Orphen think he was depressed over being stuck in this town. He was partially right, but...  
  
"All right, so what does your father think about your coming back?"  
  
Majic winced. "I... I told him that the Tower was attacked and a lot of the rooms were destroyed... So some students were sent home," he said reluctantly. Orphen narrowed his eyes, glaring at him until he turned his head to stare at the ground, looking ashamed. He'd used Azari as an excuse... That infuriated Orphen more than anything.  
  
"Majic," he said coldly, "Using Azari like that... I can't ever forgive you for it."  
  
The boy winced as though he'd been slapped, head bowing lower to the ground until his bangs fell in his eyes. At the moment, angry as he was, Orphen couldn't help but feel disgusted. He turned, facing the Everlasting mansion. "Go home, Majic. It's pointless to talk to you further."  
  
Not a sound was heard for the longest of moments, but then he heard a soft, "I'm sorry," and the scuffle of sprinting feet. He was vaguely startled; he hadn't expected him to run.  
  
A soft voice made him start. "Ah... Are you lost? may I help you?"  
  
He looked up, right into the eyes of the blonde woman he had encountered only the day before. Remembering Vulcan's words, he asked calmly, "Are you of the Everlasting family?"  
  
She flushed prettily, pink tinting her rosy cheeks. She was lovely for her age, though she couldn't be much older than him. "Why, yes, I am." Her speech was similar to that of the weird woman that had hit on him back in Shaltanou, but her mannerisms differed greatly.  
  
"Great. I need to speak with the head of your family. I'm looking for something called the Sword of Baltanders..." 


	5. Chapter Four: Secrets Shrouded in Darkne...

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, shounen ai, angst  
  
Notes: Random thing to make note of: Japanese guys have soft hands. oO;; Softer hands than most girls. It's WEIRD.  
  
Um... In reference to that, I spent the first four periods of Monday (12/9/02) with Japanese visitors from a school. And... DUDE! It was COOL! I have a drawing of Orphen and Majic on the front of my binder and all of them that asked knew it was Orphen! It was AWESOME! One of them was a TEACHER even! It was just... Too cool! *beams* SSO really IS popular in Japan! *huggles her Majic muse* ^-^  
  
Oh, and Tri-san... Don't worry, I'll explain that in due time. ^_^  
  
(( blah )) indicates flashbacks  
  
  
  
  
Hands fell limply into the young man's lap as the light faded, leaving him drowning in a chamber of blackness. This sort of work was tiring, and he hadn't made any progress today. It was time to turn in; he already knew the sun had long since set.  
  
He got to his feet, picking up the smooth, round object that had been suspended in midair only moments before. Careful not to drop it, he made his way up a round case of stairs. He'd been coming to this place to train since he was only five; he knew his way around perfectly without light by now.  
  
The door at the top of the stairs creaked open, sounding horribly loud in the dark and empty hallways of the Tower. The soft soles of his boots made not a sound as he walked with obvious expertise as this form of sneaking around. He was quick and silent on his feet, which could make him a formidable opponent should he choose to use this skill for those reasons. He, however, had never held the desire to fight. He preferred to help from the sidelines, stepping in only when the situation became desperate.  
  
Naturally, this situation was needing in his sort of experience, but not so badly that he felt the overpowering need to interfere. Besides, he was doing enough with these daily searches. He had barely eaten at all in the past three days, for only three days before he had gotten a glimpse of the true enemy... And now it was gone again, out of even his sight.  
  
Before he got to his room, however, he passed the library. To his surprise, candlelight was flickering inside. Someone was up late, possibly homework or research.  
  
Well, that wouldn't do at all. All students were to be in bed unless they had special permission, and he was quite certain no student had permission to be here this late today. He entered the room but did not find what he had expected to.  
  
"Hartia?"  
  
A young man that was barely a year younger than himself looked up, startled. Slightly mussed, bright red hair fell in tired golden eyes; right then he looked like a sleepy boy just awakened from a dreamless sleep. Spread around him were books of all sorts, ranging from magical to mythical to historical to... Comic books?  
  
Vaguely amused, the older yet shorter young man picked up one of the comic books, not surprised to find it titled, "The Black Tiger." It was a favorite of Hartia's; he distinctly remembered, from the few conversations they'd had, Hartia saying he'd wanted to be the Black Tiger when he grew up. He had no idea if he still wished that, but he obviously still enjoyed it.  
  
"Comics?" he asked mildly, setting it back down.  
  
Hartia didn't look ashamed or embarrassed. He simply smiled. "I got bored during research, so I decided to take a break."  
  
"Ah," he murmured softly. "Did I wake you?"  
  
Hartia shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I should go to bed soon anyway." He stood, picking up an armful of books (all but the Black Tiger comics, to the intruders amusement) and walking behind one of the bookshelves, setting the bound papers back in their proper place.  
  
"Were you meditating again, Rai?" the slightly muffled voice came.  
  
The shorter young man set down the round object, a clear crystal ball, and picked up a comic, flipping through it with nimble hands. "Yes," he replied in that same mild-mannered tone. Most of the students might have found it odd for him to read with his hood hiding his face, but it in no way obstructed his eye.  
  
Not many knew that Rai only had one eye, hence why he kept his hood up. Only a select few knew, and the only ones he was aware of were Childman, Hartia, Majic and Krylancelo.  
  
Krylancelo and Majic... Rai paused on one page, staring at a coloured image of the Black Tiger posing in all his glory whilst he wondered if the two had met up since both had left the Tower of Fangs. He wasn't a full psychic; he only had the occasional dream of something extremely bad happening and though he was a clairvoyant and could easily see for himself where the two were, it was not his job. He was to find the Bloody August and report her whereabouts to the Elders. That was ALL.  
  
Hartia came back for the last of the books before glancing over at Rai. Though concern flickered in his eyes, his voice was mildly teasing as he said, "I didn't know you liked comics, Rai."  
  
The green-eyed one shook his head, a faint smile on his lips as he set the book down. "I am not nearly as much a fan as you. Though, occasionally, I will tend to read one, just to relax."  
  
Hartia made a face before disappearing behind another bookshelf. "You're no fun. Krylancelo and I read them all the time."  
  
Rai paused, hesitant to answer. He heard nothing in the freckled one's direction, so he quietly snuck around to check on him. Much to his dismay, there the young man stood, head bowed and eyes in shadow, one hand clutching a book halfway on the shelf and the other gripping two more books until his knuckles whitened.  
  
Comfort wasn't his forte, but Rai made an attempt anyway. He walked over, laying a hand on Hartia's shoulder before murmuring, "I am sorry."  
  
In an almost violent move, Hartia shoved the book into its place. "Not your fault," he grated out in a hoarse voice, wiping furiously at his eyes with his sleeve.  
  
Strings of sympathy tugged at Rai's heart, screaming for him to do something. All he could do was shake his head and murmur another apology. "If you need to cry, please do so," he advised gently. "I do not wish to see you torn apart like this."  
  
Perhaps that was just what Hartia needed, because the books fell to the floor with loud twin slams and he buried his head into the older man's shoulder, tears streaming from his normally cheerful yet thought-filled eyes. The movement tugged at Rai's hood and he brushed it back from his head, allowing it to fall to his shoulders. Strands of green were tugged out of place, but only a stronger force such as wind or a simple shove of one's hand could force the dark green locks away from his right eye.  
  
Rai's hand moved from his shoulder to his back, patting the taller man somewhat awkwardly. "It will be fine," he murmured softly. "Krylancelo just needs to sort things out... It may take a while, but eventually the two of you will be as close as you ever were." Naturally, he couldn't predict this, but Hartia seemed to be somewhat comforted by it.  
  
The silence was heavy for a good few minutes as Hartia struggled to recollect his bearings and dignity. Finally he pulled back, giving his friend a small smile. "Thank you."  
  
Rai shook his head. "We are all suffering; those that love Krylancelo are. You are just hurting most."  
  
The redhead shook his head slightly, hand resting on a bookshelf to support him. "I never told him," he finally whispered. "I had so many chances to; surely he saw that I acted differently at times... But even when I had the chance, I never told to." He pounded his balled fist against the shelf, gritting his teeth. "Every time I tried I would always say something about MAJIC!"  
  
Both of Rai's eyebrows shot up in a little more than mild surprise at this outburst. Not once had Hartia ever appeared to resent the blonde boy, but right now he seemed furious with him... Or, perhaps, was it himself?  
  
"So you loved him as more than just a friend," he said cautiously, not wanting to press a wrong button and have Hartia shut him out just when he was getting him to open up.  
  
The other young man stiffened momentarily but admitted, "Yes."  
  
Rai contemplated this. Of course the signs had been there, had been obvious, but only the Higher Ones knew why Krylancelo had been -- was still -- so close-minded. He had always been so smitten with Azari he'd never noticed Hartia's affections for him... Or even Majic's, and the latter had been so much more blatant!  
  
"I see," was all the mild-mannered once commented. "Perhaps you should get some rest, Hartia. You are emotionally and mentally exhausted."  
  
Rather than argue, as he might have had he had more strength to, Hartia simply nodded. "Of course. I will." He brushed past the green-haired sorcerer, who followed him to the table the former sorcerer had been at only minutes before. The crystal ball lay there, untouched and undisturbed, as did the Black Tiger comics. Hartia picked two up, moving to put the rest away when Rai stopped him.  
  
"I would like to read one," he said calmly, plucking the first volume from Hartia's hands and ignoring the surprised look on his friend's face. "I, too, will need some help getting some sleep tonight."  
  
"Yeah," the redhead said slowly, shrugging and putting the rest away. He frowned faintly, startling Rai when he touched the side of his face lightly, tracing the dark circles beneath his visible eye. "You should sleep in a bit yourself. You don't exactly look your most energetic, either."  
  
Rai simply stared at him, vaguely shaken by the touch. Rarely did people touch him, and it had been so long since another had brushed their fingers so gently across his face. The last hand there had been and admittedly brutal one to deliver slaps for every little thing he had been incompetent for.  
  
Hartia blinked and drew his hand back suddenly, looking embarrassed. Apparently he had just realized the closeness himself. "Ah... Yes. Good night, Rai," he bade, heading swiftly for the doors.  
  
A tiny smile flickered across the solemn one's face. "Sweet dreams," he murmured. Hartia paused and looked back at him questioningly, as though he had barely heard him, but Rai's expression was once again neutral. Shrugging, the freckle-faced man seemed to melt in the night with a flicker of bright red hair.  
  
Musing to himself, Rai retrieved his most precious crystal orb, putting out the candle with a simple wave of his hand.  
  
Well. He certainly had a lot to think about tonight...  
  
  
  
Elsewhere, sleep was not coming easily to a certain other youth. It was still light out, though the sun was still in the process of setting for its own rest that night, but he honestly didn't feel like coming out of his room.  
  
Majic was sprawled out on the middle of his bed, tummy down and clutching his feather-stuffed pillow, the coarse casing scratching his already irritated hands. The brown casing was damp, remnants of salty tears, but now his eyes were dry. No more soft cries escaped his throat, no more salty water tried to stain his face. Some skin had been scraped off his nose and forehead, just enough to make him itch, but he didn't seem to notice. Now he was staring ahead at the wall, expression blank.  
  
It had hurt more than anything else to be told that. Nothing could assuage the pain inflicted by the simple statement.  
  
(( "... I can never forgive you for it." ))  
  
He took a shuddering breath; Apparently he wasn't completely calm yet. Majic closed his eyes, trying to block the cold voice from his mind. He didn't try to tell himself Orphen hadn't meant it. Orphen had always been dead serious when it concerned Azari; it was something that had been ground into him from the start.  
  
A knock startled him from his thoughts. "Majic?" he heard his father say. He hadn't disturbed him since he had bolted into the tavern, panting, tears streaking his face and nearly doubled over, out of breath. Majic knew he must have looked horribly strange to his father, refusing to say anything and simply going straight to his room. But Bagup hadn't disturbed him for over an hour, and Majic loved him for letting him have some time alone. "I made supper. You hungry?"  
  
Majic rolled over on his side. "Yes. I'll be there in a couple minutes."  
  
Not another word was said, but Majic did hear the thump of heavy footsteps, signaling his father had left. He wiped his eyes, figuring he should wash up before going down.  
  
He went to the washroom just down the hall, scrubbing his hands and face. His nose felt a bit tender afterwards, but it didn't sting so that was a good sign.  
  
The blonde boy walked downstairs, feeling tired but somewhat refreshed after the good cry. He sat down at the bar while his father finished washing dishes; he would join him soon enough. This was routine.  
  
Majic ate his roast chicken and corn, barely tasting the somewhat tough meat or the faintly sweet vegetable. His eyes were fastened on his plate as he ate mechanically.  
  
There was a light drizzle out now. He could hear it patter on the windows. It was good; they needed the rain around this time of year. If it rained steadily, crops would grow well. Majic had his own small garden out back, and another of pretty flowers out front where his mother used to grow them.  
  
The slamming of a door startled him. His father looked toward the front door but the blue-eyed boy didn't need to look to see who it was. He cringed and shrunk a bit into himself, setting his fork down quickly before he dropped it-- Or followed up the urge to throw it at the offending person behind him.  
  
Finally, though, he did turn slightly, wincing once again at the furious glare the amber-eyed sorcerer gave him. It was sheer anger, as though he were blaming him for everything wrong with his life.  
  
"Anything to eat?" Bagup asked calmly, taking note of his son's reaction to his (possibly former) idol.  
  
"No," Orphen said shortly, stripping off his gloves and letting them drip on the floor that has only just been cleaned. Majic sighed mentally; more work for him tonight. "I'm going to bed." With another burning look in the teenager's direction, he turned and stormed up the stairs. Another door slammed; Majic prayed he hadn't broken it.  
  
Bagup observed his son. "What's bothering him?"  
  
Majic shrugged; he knew this wasn't completely because of his excuse. Orphen was mad about SOMETHING, and whatever it was, he felt content taking it out on his former classmate. "I have no idea," he murmured, finishing the last bit of his chicken before saying, "I'll clean up and go to bed myself, Father."  
  
Bagup nodded once before returning to his own chore. After mopping up the mud and rain Orphen had tracked in, Majic went back upstairs. He paused outside Orphen's door, staring at it almost longingly. It still hurt... But... That didn't change anything to him, did it?  
  
Definitely not. Majic tiptoed to the back storage room, snatching a certain spare key from a hook and cautiously made his way back to Orphen's room. He inserted the key into the lock, turning it, and with a small click he was free to enter.  
  
After all, it had worked out well once before. Why not again? 


	6. Chapter Five: Unveilings

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, possible shounen ai, language, bit of blood  
  
Notes: oO;; Um... Okay, so I've been watching Excel Saga, which is so disturbing it's funny, and the Japanese dude that plays Watanabe, Excel's sex-crazed neighbor, also plays Hartia. And Trieze (Gundam Wing). And Tigers Eye (Sailormoon). And Brad Crawford (Weiss Kreuz). And Shigure (Fruits Basket). o.o;;; And Omi Minami (Majic) plays Hyatt from Excel Saga. oO; And Childman plays Folken from Escaflowne...  
  
Seeker ~ Tsk, tsk, impatient, aren't we? ^^; Thank you; I'm glad you're still reading. I can't promise that Rai and Hartia will get together. I'm still debating that. Besides, Orphen and Majic are still a far cry away from starting anything. x_x This is gonna be SO LONG...  
  
Spell Translation:  
Ware wa iyasu, shayou no shoukon - I heal thee, scar of the setting sun  
  
(( flashback ))  
  
  
  
  
Orphen slammed his fist into the pillow, taking his anger out on the pillow. He really wanted to hit something hard, but wasn't keen on paying for any damage to his rented room.  
  
"DAMN that woman," he hissed between his teeth. "Family heirloom my ass! That thing was only missing for FOUR years!"  
  
He sank down onto the mattress, pushing his bangs back with his hands in sheer frustration. He thought it would be easy, but he hadn't counted on finding the Sword of Baltanders in the hands of such a stuck-up family! Not only that, but it was to be handed down to their youngest DAUGHTER, to whom the deceased father had written to in his will.  
  
This was beyond frustrating. Orphen had been sure he was in complete control of things... But obviously that hadn't been the case.  
  
(( Orphen sat calmly in the living room, nodding once to the young girl -- Mariabelle, her name was -- as she brought him a warm cup of tea. She blushed and quickly rushed out, something the sorcerer was used to. He didn't think anything of it. If it wasn't Azari paying him romantic attention, what did it matter?  
  
It didn't.  
  
Finally, a plump woman entered the room. She had blonde hair as golden as her daughter's, most likely the eldest. Orphen noted the pictures in the room, many of them including a man and younger girl. Neither of them was present.  
  
"How may I help you?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly. She was probably at least twice his age; he was hesitant to say three times.  
  
Orphen set down the tea carefully on the table before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. "I was asking around town and was told you would mostly likely have what I'm looking for," he said, completely serious. "It's called the Sword of Baltanders."  
  
Miss Everlasting was silent for a few minutes before she stood and walked out. Unperturbed, Orphen waited and sure enough, she came back minutes later. In her hands was an obviously heavy and quite expensive-looking sword. Of course, there was only one way to prove its worth.  
  
"May I hold it?" he asked.  
  
"You may," she relented, handing it over. Orphen held it with both hands, testing its weight. It was fairly heavy, though with his strength it felt just perfect to hold. He grasped the hilt with one hand, slowly unsheathing it. The metal gleamed in the room's lighting. As he'd expected, on it was written in ancient sorcerous runes, The Sword of Baltanders.  
  
Orphen smiled. "Finally," he whispered, sheathing it. He handed it back, expression serious once again. "I'm willing to lay down any amount of money for that sword, Miss."  
  
Miss Everlasting's lips thinned and she shook her head. "It's not for sale."  
  
Orphen felt as though he was falling for a brief moment. His stomach clenched momentarily and he managed to keep a controlled voice as he inquired, "Why?"  
  
"It's a family heirloom, to be handed down to my youngest," she said curtly. "You may not have it for any price."  
  
Orphen's fists clenched, but he held himself back from lashing out at the nearest thing, which happened to be Miss Everlasting herself. "I see," he said softly. "Thank you for your time." The manners were forced, but if she thought so she made no comment of it.  
  
"Of course." ))  
  
Grumbling softly to himself, Orphen kicked his boots off and flopped back onto the mattress, fingers laced behind his head as he tried to sort his thoughts out. Politeness would obviously get him nowhere, yet taking it by force was out of the question. There was no telling what sort of sticky situations would arise from that.  
  
Orphen growled in frustration, closing his eyes rolling over on his side, head resting on one arm. This was a lot more difficult than he wanted it to be.  
  
Then the sound of the bedroom door creaking open made him freeze. His mind ran through a list of reactions but in the end he decided to remain still. He couldn't sense any intentional harm emanating from the person, an instinct he'd polished over the four years he'd been traveling. All this happened in a fraction of a moment.  
  
His breathing was deep and even. Anyone that didn't know any better wouldn't know he was awake, and it became clear quickly that this person didn't know any better.  
  
The floorboards barely creaked as a light body tiptoed across, the wood barely making a protest as they came to kneel near the bed. Carefully, Orphen cracked an eye open, watching through his dark lashes. What he saw wasn't unexpected, but it was still a bit startling.  
  
Blue eyes watched him, concern making a slight crease on Majic's forehead. The moments seemed to stretch into eternity and the entire time Orphen was fighting not to sit up and demand what he was doing there. Finally, Majic let out a soft sigh and reached out, brushing stray strands from Orphen's eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry, Orphen-sama," he murmured so softly that Orphen could barely hear it. "Goodnight." He hesitated, uncertainty flickering in his eyes before he shook his head as though to rid himself of some idea. He stood and left, locking the door behind him.  
  
Now puzzled amber eyes opened and Orphen shifted to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling in confusion. He pulled the ring out from beneath his shirt, staring at it and toying with it while he thought. His forehead tingled right above his headband, where Majic's fingers had brushed across briefly when he'd slipped. It was akin to the tingling he'd felt when he woke up.  
  
Majic had been in there the night before. There was no doubt about THAT. But the only question was, why? Even after acting strange around him, even after Orphen had sworn he'd never forgive him, he'd still come in and apologized, even though he'd been asleep. It was WEIRD.  
  
It did strike the older sorcerer with a moderate amount of guilt, though. He'd never asked why Majic was expelled, and there might have been a good reason (or maybe just good in Majic's mind) he'd used Azari's mistake to cover for his own.  
  
The sun was completely gone now, rain still drizzling outside. It would be a wet morning tomorrow; no one would want to go outside.  
  
Orphen sighed and unclasped the thin chain from his neck, setting it and the pendant down on the nearby nightstand. He could think of a solution to everything -- getting the sword, apologizing to Majic (Orphen cringed), getting him to explain a few things -- in the morning. Right now he was tired and just wanted some rest.  
  
One thing was for certain. He was NOT going to let the blonde boy know he knew of his nightly visits. The first reason was mainly because Orphen was curious if he would do it again, but he also knew it would mortify the boy if he said that he knew about something that seemed so private to the young sorcerer.  
  
Young sorcerer... Could Majic really use magic at all? It was something else to think about as he drifted off.  
  
  
  
It was nearly noon by the time Orphen awoke again. And, again, something was bothering him when he woke up. Rubbing at his forehead, he decided it wasn't a tingly feeling, as that had passed sometime before he'd fallen asleep (though why he was reacting that way to Majic he had NO idea).  
  
All he knew was that he'd had strange dreams last night. One of them he could only remember had a lot of blood. Another had been slightly more pleasant, though the high-pitched voice that had somehow knew his name had been a bit annoying. He could also vaguely remember something about garnet... But that was it.  
  
Well, the garnet could actually be explained, he thought in half amusement, fastening the chain with the small ring around his neck before tucking it into his shirt to hide it. It wasn't that he didn't like it. He was just uncomfortable explaining WHY he wore it. And anyone that didn't know him would think him odd for wearing such a feminine thing.  
  
But he wouldn't let go of it. Not until he gave it to... Someone. He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, reminding himself it was AZARI he wanted to give it to, not "someone."  
  
He felt a little sick that morning.  
  
Nevertheless, he had work to do. With that in mind he made his way downstairs. He would be doing a lot of wandering around today, he was sure, so he wanted to get something to eat before he left.  
  
Surprisingly, Majic wasn't there when he came downstairs. He didn't ask any questions, but either Bagup could sense he was curious or he was just trying to make conversation when he said, "Majic left early this morning. Said he wanted to get the day's shopping done early today."  
  
"Hn," Orphen muttered in reply, picking up a fork before eating his eggs half-heartedly. He finished quickly, refusing anything more before he tossed a bit of money on the table and stood, stretching.  
  
"I'll be back later, old man," he said casually as he meandered out the door. "So don't you be giving up my room, hear?"  
  
"Heard," was the humoring voice of Bagup before the door shut behind him. Orphen shook his head and dropped his hands to his side, wondering where to start first.  
  
He started by wandering the streets, keeping an eye out for a certain pair of midget brothers. He would have to be demanding his loan back early even if it was over a week before schedule. What did it matter, anyway? They were thieves; if they didn't pay him back now, he could kick their asses to high heaven. And he would, too, until he could find some sort of use for them. Annoying as they were, Dortin was a lot more observant that his idiot arrogant counterpart, so at least HE could prove useful someday.  
  
After three hours of no luck, even after questioning every shop owner he'd come across, Orphen decided he deserved a break. He stopped by a small fountain. It wasn't anything spectacular, just an intricately carved dragon, hardly a size to brag about even for a sculpture. It was poised as though resting, and it looked beautiful.  
  
A mythical dragon, he thought with scorn. Real dragons, TRUE dragons were hideous. They were lucky if they HAD huge scales to protect them. What scales they did have were weak and brittle, tiny and easy to break. When handling a dragon one would have to be gentle if he wasn't keen on losing an important limb-- or his head.  
  
The water wasn't exactly sparkling clean as is flowed from the dragon's gaping mouth (a pose Orphen found quite ridiculous) but it wasn't disgustingly dirty, either. A few birds had claimed it as their bathing spot, at least the shallow end he was sitting at, and some were pecking at huge chunks of bread most likely a child had thrown down.  
  
One little bird was trying to swallow a chunk whole. Orphen tugged it from its beak, shaking his head as he broke it into smaller portions so it wouldn't gag to death. "Idiot," he murmured. "Biting off more than you can chew..."  
  
A loud scream made him start. He stood, looking around frantically until his eyes fell upon a child. Glass was strewn about, blood splattering that glass as the little boy screamed and screamed. Surrounding people didn't know what to do, and a mother was clinging to him, shrieking hysterically, which did nothing to calm the boy down.  
  
Cursing softly, Orphen pushed his way through. "Calm down," he said sternly, kneeling before the mother and child. "Stop crying; it'll only hurt worse. And you stop screaming; you're frightening him." He didn't exactly sound very kind when he said that, but it shut the mother up. The boy was trying not to cry but having a hard time choking back tears.  
  
This would definitely have him kicked out. Damn it, and right when he'd found the sword, too! But if he let the child bleed to death he'd feel guilty for the rest of his life... And if Majic ever found out he knew he'd never be able to rid himself of the guilt. Those blue eyes had a way of tearing into your soul when he was truly upset, though Orphen was determined to build an immunity to that someday.  
  
"Ware wa iyasu, shayou no shoukon." Warm light glowed beneath his hands, thrumming softly in rhythm with his own heartbeat. The crowd was watching, wide-eyed, as the bloodied leg began to mend itself, skin sealing up as though there had never been a cut and blood dissipating as though it had never been spilt.  
  
It took a bare couple of seconds, hardly long enough for anyone to blink twice, but then it was over. Orphen sat back on his heels, feeling only the slightest bit of drain. It was one of his smaller spells, and in comparison to what he'd healed before after battles, that cut had been a mere scratch.  
  
The people didn't look happy, however. The little boy was pulling up on his torn pants, staring in awe and wonder at his no longer bleeding flesh. It was smooth and scarless, like the incident had never happened. His mother shrieked and scrambled to her feet, taking the boy with her. "You... You SORCERER," she spat as though it were a curse. "Stay away from my child!"  
  
"How did a sorcerer get into this town without our noticing?!"  
  
"He looks even more evil than the witch had!"  
  
"Wasn't he the wandering stranger asking about the Sword of Valdangers or something?"  
  
"Look at his EYES."  
  
"Yes, so evil..."  
  
Orphen scowled and got to his feet, ignoring the crowd as he pushed his way through. They didn't dare do anything now, but most likely they would come up with some way to get rid of them. He'd have to be on his toes for a while.  
  
A flicker of gold and blue caught his eye. He paused and turned slightly until the two were facing each other directly. Majic's expression was a mix of many things-- Surprise, wonder, and even more than a little awe. The taller sorcerer gave a short nod before he continued his way back to the tavern. There was no hope in asking around any further. Word traveled fast in a town like Totokanta, and once they found out he was a sorcerer...  
  
Majic, barely footsteps behind him, followed. 


	7. Chapter Six: Hypocrisy

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, possible shounen ai, language  
  
Notes: *sweatdrop* I was watching Excel Saga today and listening to Iwata's (Watanabe's roommate) voice, I thought, "Huh. This sounds familiar." So I went on a search, thinking maybe he played Zero in Megami Kouhosei. Turns out, he was my SECOND guess. He's played by Morikubo Shoutarou. Who is Orphen. And Goh. And it's FREAKY, because all three of them have spiky brown hair.  
  
oO;;;  
  
Anou... Thanks for helping me with a couple of the races' names Alz-chan. ^^ I really needed that.  
  
  
  
  
There was no tension radiating from the sorcerer this time. For the first time since he had arrived, Majic felt almost at complete ease with him, even in the same room. Said elder sorcerer was leaning against a wall in the kitchen, located just behind the main room (a dining room, entrance hall and bar all at once), his head tilted slightly as he gazed out the window overlooking the back gardens.  
  
Majic sat on a stool near the counter, hands grasping the edge between his legs, which dangled on either side of his arms. The toes of his shoes rested on the ground, his eyes fastened either on them or Orphen, who he constantly glanced up at from time to time.  
  
Finally, breaking the silence, Orphen said calmly, "I'd like to hear everything else."  
  
Majic hesitated in responding. "Everything else?"  
  
He received a curt nod before mahogany eyes slid his way. "Starting with why you were expelled."  
  
The blonde boy cringed slightly. The memory wasn't crystal-clear in his mind, but it was one of the clearer ones he really wished he could rid himself of.  
  
"Ah... Yes, of course," he said in a funny voice before clearing his throat. "Um," he started, sounding a bit more normal. "Flameheart said that I was useless since I'd been there for five years and I had yet to prove I could use magic at all." Orphen noted how there was no 'sensei' honorary; Majic had completely estranged himself from his former teacher. Good. That was one good thing; Flameheart was a complete bastard. "But... He wasn't happy with... Other things I did, so he used the first excuse to get me expelled."  
  
Orphen arched an eyebrow, startling the blue-eyed boy with how much one could portray by a simple little motion. Facial expression was everything, it seemed, and the eyebrows could portray what even eyes could not. Orphen's eyes were blank. "Other things?"  
  
Majic flushed and returned his gaze to the floor, picking at a spot on the sleeve of his white sweater. To his surprise, the young man didn't press. "Why did you lie to your father?"  
  
The golden head dropped lower until Majic's chin was nearly resting on his chest. Unseen to the sorcerer he was blinking back tears. "I'm sorry," he whispered.  
  
Orphen's expression hardened. "I don't want an apology, Majic, I want an explanation," he said in a surprisingly firm voice. Jumping slightly, the addressed boy nodded slowly.  
  
"I didn't want Father to know I'd been expelled because of incompetence," he explained softly. Orphen refrained from asking how he knew was incompetence was. "I... I didn't want to disgrace Mother that way."  
  
A tiny frown graced the older male's lips as he also noted that when not speaking to or around his deceased mother, Majic didn't call her "Mama." That hinted at mental issues that might want to be looked into, but that could wait. "Why would you disgrace her?" he asked in an almost gentle voice.  
  
Even without raising his head it was clear that Majic was startled by such kindness. He stammered slightly when he spoke. "Ah... Because she w-was a great sorceress and I can't do... Anything."  
  
In a way the older man didn't understand, and yet a part of him did. Part of him said that pride in children from the parental units always felt good to a child, even to adults. It was human nature to enjoy being praised. That was why it was hard to let their parents down, especially to children.  
  
Unfortunately, the more sensitive you were the more those feelings had a strong impact on you. Majic was extremely sensitive to the point it was feminine. Hell, Orphen thought wryly, Majic WAS feminine in more ways than one. It was actually disturbing, amusing and frightening all at once.  
  
He realized that Majic was still waiting for a reaction. He shrugged slightly, turning his attention back to the window though he could still see him from the corner of his eye. "I suppose I can forgive you, then," he said in a casual tone, akin to that of someone speaking of the weather.  
  
The reaction was bigger than he'd expected. Majic's head lifted, surprise widening those azure-coloured eyes before delight softened them. His hands tightened on the stool, and for a split second Orphen feared he would try to hug him but instead he settled for a slightly overemotional, "Thank you!"  
  
"Tch," Orphen muttered, closing his eyes briefly to get the image out of his mind.  
  
Majic got to his feet, looking a lot happier than he had since that time at the Tower of Fangs-- Actually, come to think of it, he'd never seen Majic this happy before. Orphen was startled as he thought this, realizing that rarely had Majic appeared happy around him. Usually he had been either frightened or crying.  
  
Strange.  
  
Orphen was vaguely surprised when a week passed and no townspeople attempted to kill him. He knew he wasn't welcome, so why the lack of action?  
  
A simple question that lead to an equally simple answer. They were plotting against him. He felt foolish for not thinking of it when he found out.  
  
He rarely left the tavern since that day, and whenever he did it was usually early in the morning or late at night when he wanted to go for a walk and enjoy the outdoors. He wasn't exactly a nature person, but being stuck inside for a week always made him feel better whenever he stepped outside and got a nice blast of fresh air.  
  
It was warm that day, so Orphen had made sure to snag the couch that got a nice spot of sunlight on it. It was hot but not overly so, and actually felt quite nice as long as he took off his vest to keep from getting too hot. He was bored but really too lazy to do anything about it. The back garden was perfectly safe for practicing some new spells in, but he'd tried that once and Majic had been so horrified at the state half his vegetables had been in that he'd nearly cried in frustration.  
  
Orphen hated it when women cried, and quite honestly, when Majic cried it was nearly the same thing. So he didn't want to risk that again.  
  
The door opened without a knock, which was customary for a tavern, but the bang of the knob against the wall irritated Orphen. He sat up just as Bagup, polishing glasses, turned. In the doorway stood a grim looking man that couldn't have been yet ten years older than the brunette sorcerer.  
  
Bagup seemed to recognize him for he said with utter calm, "May I help you, Mr. Mikahkou?"  
  
Mikakhou turned steely gray eyes on the aging man. "Bagup, you're going to have to come with me," he said in a voice just as grim as his expression. Then he saw Orphen and ordered in a somewhat weak voice, "Just stay there, sorcerer. I have men ready to kill if you put up a fight."  
  
Annoyed, Orphen propped himself on his elbows. "What the hell's going on?" he inquired in an irritated tone.  
  
Mikakhou flinched, mistaking his irritation for malice. "Don't move!" he ordered as the young sorcerer got to his feet. "Just stay there. Someone'll be here to escort you soon enough."  
  
"Escort or force?" the mahogany-eyed sorcerer muttered under his breath, but obeyed as he stood still, arms folded over his chest.  
  
The door leading to the stairway opened and Majic poked a dusty golden head into the room. He blinked. "Father? Mr. Mikakhou? What's going on?"  
  
"You'll be safe enough soon," Mikakhou promised without directly answering the young teen's question.  
  
Majic frowned, opening the door completely and walking in. "I'm afraid I don't understa–"  
  
"Just go back to what you were doing," Orphen said tightly, not liking Majic's presence at the moment.  
  
Blue eyes flickered with trepidation at the cold voice. "Or--?"  
  
"Don't," the older sorcerer snapped. Still confused, Majic obeyed and fell silent though he didn't leave.  
  
One more man entered then, holding a gun and aiming it at Orphen without a word. A frown touched Bagup's expression but Orphen faced it without fear in his eyes. Majic's eyes widened but he continued to keep silent, as though afraid of another reprimand. Mikakhou broke the tense silence by speaking.  
  
"Sorcerer, you're going on trial for nearly killing one of our young citizens," he said with an air of authority he seemed to have mustered after being backed up by weaponry. "The charge is attempted murder. If you're found guilty penalty can range from expulsion of this town to death."  
  
Orphen's lip twitched slightly. "And what if I'm innocent?"  
  
Mikakhou ignored that. "Mr. Lyn, you're going to have to come with us. You're an important witness, so to say, since you've been housing this... Sorcerer." Again, as the word fell from the villager's lips it sounded like a curse. Orphen was rather sick of it. The authoritive figure gestured to the armed man. "Gestut, escort him to the court, please."  
  
"Father?" Majic asked uncertainly. "Orphen-sama?"  
  
"Look after the tavern, Majic," was all Bagup said before leaving. Orphen didn't say a word, nor did he look at him as he followed. He did look rather annoyed at his interruptions of peace, however.  
  
The door shut behind Mikakhou and Majic was left alone, baffled as he chewed on his lower lip, contemplating. He'd been told to stay at the tavern... But then, he thought with wry humor, that would be violating the laws of every teenager. He had to disobey at some point, and this was too important an event to miss.  
  
Making sure to lock the door behind him, Majic followed the crowd of townspeople to the courthouse a few blocks away. The entire time he had his fingers crossed, praying silently that all would go well. Now that he was comfortable with him, he didn't WANT Orphen to leave.  
  
  
  
He'd combed the library for nearly a year. Time and time again he'd reread books to make sure he hadn't missed anything, and by now he was growing weary. The work was time-consuming and tiring, but he knew that SOMETHING from the puzzle was missing, and he had to find it.  
  
Hartia shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts. It wouldn't do any good to be distracted; he would definitely miss something that way. He wasn't fool enough to work all day every day. He took plenty of breaks to clear his mind, probably more than he should have. But still...  
  
He tucked a stray lock of red hair behind his ear before closing the book before him. He walked over to a shelf and replaced the book in its former spot before selecting another nearby one. He hadn't been able to check this one twice. Last time he'd looked for it someone else had already borrowed it and it'd taken them an annoyingly long time to return it.  
  
Settling comfortably into his chair, Hartia flipped the hardback book open, its faded blue binding falling to the table with a dull thud. This was a history of different types of spells. Perhaps he could find something in here to help Childman, who needed as much help as he could get at the moment. His devoted student dreaded the idea of his teacher using the last resort, so he was doing his best to try to fin another solution.  
  
It was an interesting book, actually, if you liked the subject well enough. It spoke of the different races of sorcerers and their abilities, how each race had different strengths. A magic-less mortal might find it strange that sorcerers had races just like any other living being, but then that was the problem with the magic-less folk. They were so frightened of the myths, legends and rumors of the evil black-magic practicers that they regarded all those blessed with magical talent as evil.  
  
And yet they were willing to make CERTAIN exceptions in some places, such as the Deep Dragon tribe a couple hundred miles west of the Tower of Fangs itself. Hartia knew well enough that their priestess was gifted with the ability to heal, yet they didn't try to harm her. In fact, it was against their law to go against her orders. The most ironic thing of all was that they killed sorcerers. It didn't even matter if a young sorcerer child was wandering through the woods out of sheer curiosity, they would kill him or her on the spot anyway.  
  
Hartia scowled faintly. Hypocrites.  
  
Golden eyes drank in each word as he tried to get his mind off the annoyances of non-magic humans. His eyes paused on certain descriptions, such as the clairvoyant-strengthened sorcerers called Cyntik. Rai must have been descended from them. There were several others, such as the psychic Roure sorcerers; the Paltanec, who specialized in white magic (Hartia made a face), the Xertil, who practiced black magic, the Sinelna, who needed a voice for the magic to work, and the Majestarte, who specialized in various made-up incantations.  
  
The students that went to the Tower of Fangs were mostly a mix of Xertil and Sinelna. Long ago both races had been involved in a huge war, leaving nearly all dead, so the only hope for their magic to continue on strong was to mix. This, most of the magic was also mixed. This was true for several races once they had gotten past prejudice and had begun to mingle. It was more uncommon now than it was then to have "pure blood," or specialize in only one kind of magic.  
  
Hartia himself was of Xertil and Sinelna blood. Krylancelo had been too, but since he'd started having strange visions Hartia had begun to suspect he might have a streak of Roure as well. Rai was easily mostly Cyntik and part Roure.  
Hartia paused, frowning slightly. Now that he thought about it, Krylancelo was most likely a strong Majestarte. Whenever he'd used his own made-up incantations back when he had still been attending the Tower of Fangs, his own incantations had always been stronger than the spells required from the Tower.  
  
Well, Krylancelo had always been full of surprises. That was for certain.  
  
Red eyebrows stitched together as the young man allowed the train of thought to go further. While not hated, the Tower of Fangs did have strict rules as far as what kind of magic Majestarte students could use. They could modify spells slightly, but an entirely new incantation was illicit. Which was why it had always made him nervous to watch Krylancelo use it.  
  
Well. There was nothing useful here. Sighing softly, Hartia closed the book but stood without returning it to its shelf. He could do that later... Right now he was hungry. He wandered out of the library without giving it another thought. 


	8. Chapter Seven: Totokanta's Shortest Tria...

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, possible shounen ai, mild swearing, oddness  
  
Notes: Sorry, it's a page short, but making it longer would have been a waste of text and I can't think of anything to use without revealing too much plot or rushing it. *shrug* So. It's a page short this time. Sorry.  
  
Also, I dedicate this chapter to my dear~~ friend Pauline, even though she may never read this. Because someday I WILL make her obsessed with SSO and she'll love it. ^_^  
  
Spell Translation:  
waga yubisaki no kohaku no tate - amber shield from my fingertips  
  
  
  
  
This was a natural procedure to Orphen. It was quite common, actually. He'd show his powers in some way, shape or form, not all of the time for a better cause, and he'd end up getting kicked out of town.  
  
He'd understand if the non-magic mortals at least knew of the different races of sorcerers, for it was only natural to believe black magic users were dangerous-- And they were. Black magic wasn't just harmful magic; it was mostly cut out for attacking powers. Thus, lightening, wind and fire were very useful to a Xertil, or a black magic user.  
  
But they didn't know about the difference, and thus didn't know of the Paltanecs. Paltanecs were called "white magic users." They were rare and their specialty was healing and defense magic. They could use black magic, but weren't nearly as good with it. The same went for Xertils, who could summon defenses but were not nearly as useful as attacks.  
  
Ah, what did it matter what race he was? He didn't care anymore, and it didn't make a difference to him. He was good at what he could do, and that was magic. So.  
  
The mock trial began (Orphen refused to call it a proper trial; it was too disorganized) and he found himself ready to nod off constantly. The only thing that kept him from falling asleep completely was the gun trained on him. He could defend himself, but not at such close range, and he didn't fancy a bullet in his skull.  
  
His eyes slid to the onlookers. No help there, obviously. They were townspeople, each of them looking at Orphen with fear in their eyes. He felt his eyebrow twitch but refrained from commenting lest Gestut, the man with the gun pointed at his temple, decide he was trying to do something suspicious.  
  
Idiot townspeople.  
  
While Mikakhou blathered on, listing the accusations (most of them false, which is one reason why Orphen tuned him out) and the different possibilities of punishment.  
  
Someone stirred off to the side of the crowd. He narrowed his eyes at Majic, who averted his eyes once he realized he was being watched, but then looked back with defiance the sorcerer hadn't suspected he'd had.  
  
Well. Disobedience, by Majic of all people. Orphen couldn't say he wasn't a little impressed.  
  
He shifted in his seat, finally growing too restless to keep quiet. "'Scuse me," he said loudly, cutting Mikakhou off in mid-rant (something about drugs being illegal; Orphen had no idea what that had to do with the present situation). There was a click as Gestut readied the gun.  
  
People frowned in loud disapproval, but he ignored them. "Do I get a chance to defend myself or what?" Orphen asked, leaning forward in the wooden chair. "Because, quite frankly, I was less bored lying around doing nothing than sitting here listening to this..." He glanced at Mikakhou and smirked faintly, "GENTLEMAN go on about something meaningless to me."  
  
There was a tiny wave of titters at the sarcasm in his voice, giving him an inkling that Mikakhou wasn't, in fact, adored by all of Totokanta's citizens.  
  
Mikakhou frowned but before he could speak, Bagup, who was nearby, did. "Why not?" he asked mildly. "He obviously isn't going to attack us with a gun to his head, unless he's suicidal."  
  
Uncertain murmurs arose. Mikakhou, not pleased, reluctantly relented. "Speak, sorcerer," he said rigidly.  
  
Orphen leaned back in his chair, satisfied with that much. "Thank you," he said with mock pleasantry. "I just want to know what gives you all the right to accuse me of... Cursing a child I don't even know? Is it because, in fact, all sorcerers are evil?" A spark appeared in his eyes, but he bit his tongue. If what he wanted to say needed to be said, then the opportunity would arise soon enough.  
  
"Naturally," Mikakhou said stiffly, as though offended Orphen could possibly think otherwise.  
  
"Hm. So then even the Paltanecs are evil?"  
  
"The who?"  
  
He sighed heavily. "As I thought. You people are so prejudiced against us you don't even bother to distinct the black magic users from the white."  
  
Now the murmurs were full of curiosity. Black magic and white magic? There was a difference?  
  
"Keep silent," Mikakhou snapped.  
  
Orphen shot to his feet, slamming his hand on the wooden bar before him. "Keep SILENT?" he said, voice rising. "You've banished and killed so many of MY people near the point of extinction, so that we can't live without lying to every non-magic user we meet, so that we have to watch our backs so we won't be murdered as we sleep, and you want me to keep SILENT?!"  
  
Now other people were getting to their feet, some frightened and others trying to get a better look. Majic was one of the latter, something akin to desperation on his face. Orphen closed his eyes briefly. He didn't want to be a hero here, he just wanted the Sword of Baltanders, he just wanted to go help Azari... But...  
  
"I agree with the sorcerer," a familiar voice said. Orphen started and turned to see a middle-aged woman standing in the front of the crowd. Her expression clearly said she had every right to act out like this. Some people looked surprised and others a bit cowed. It was Miss Everlasting, and Orphen personally found it all very ironic. A faint smirk came to his lips before he shook his head.  
  
"Miss Everlasting?" Mikakhou said in a somewhat strangled voice.  
  
She turned her gaze on him... Or at least, her face to him. Her eyes were closed, making Orphen wonder for the first time if she was, perhaps, blind? Interesting.  
  
"This young man," Everlasting said firmly, "Came to visit me a short while ago. From the rumors I've been hearing most of you have, I gather, have heard he's searching for a certain sword?" Murmurs of agreement rose, some from people Orphen didn't recognize. It seemed Miss Everlasting was a powerful figure in this town, and he had no doubts it was because she was rich. "I am in possession of the sword he seeks."  
  
"With all do respect, Miss Everlasting," Mikakhou said smoothly, regaining some of his confidence, "What does that have to do with--"  
  
"Hold your tongue," Everlasting snapped. Red tinted the aging man's face and Orphen couldn't keep from snickering. She was a sharp-tongued old woman, that was for sure! Despite his resentment toward her, he felt an odd sort of respect for her. Perhaps this was why she was so well respected. She just had an authorative, confident air about her that was impossible to ignore. "This young man offered any price for it, though I doubt he has the money for what my husband bought it for."  
  
So it WASN'T a family heirloom! He knew it, but somehow knew that even if it wasn't, the eldest Everlasting was still going to refuse him if -- no, when -- he asked.  
  
"Nevertheless, you see me here before you," Miss Everlasting continued, her voice hardening on her last few words. "Safe and unharmed."  
  
Nobody could deny THAT. Now Orphen had more than one reason to be thankful he was mostly in control of these actions!  
  
Still not wanting to give up his case, Mikakhou argued, "How do we know he hasn't cursed you to say all this, Miss Everlasting?"  
  
The woman tilted her head slightly, one eyebrow arched. Though her eyes were still closed, it gave the impression she had a spark of anger regardless. "Are you questioning me, Mikakhou?"  
  
He couldn't say anything that wouldn't make him lose any respect with the townspeople. Mikakhou fell silent.  
  
"Then I decree the sorcerer be left alone," Miss Everlasting finished, a small smile on her lips. Another younger blonde woman, Mariabelle, stood to escort her out.  
  
Orphen shook his head, hardly able to believe his luck. But Mikakhou was still glaring at him in hatred. "Just one more question," Orphen said mildly. "I want to know what sorcerer ever wrote the words, 'May angels watch over them in hell' on a non-magic user's tombstone."  
  
Deathly silence followed. Some of the villagers that had been standing to leave turned to Orphen, surprise clear in their eyes, others turning away as though denying it. Bagup was gazing at Orphen with new interest and out of the corner of his eye the young sorcerer noted that the bartender's son looked pale. Pushing the image away, he said calmly, "I'll go, then." When no one answered he nodded once and jumped out of the cramped box they'd tried to keep him in.  
  
Mikakhou paled. "Gestut!"  
  
"Waga yubisaki no kohaku no tate!" Orphen snapped, arm raised and the words flowing so fast they were practically a blur. The gunshot fired never reached him; it exploded at the amber-ringed shield at his fingertips. He lowered his hand and glared icily at Mikakhou.  
  
"I've never killed anyone before, so don't give me a reason to," he said darkly, storming past him and out the door, villagers parting like the Red Sea for him.  
  
Needless to say, it had been one of the most confusing, bizarre and yet enlightening trials Totokanta had ever seen.  
  
  
  
Rai seriously hoped it wouldn't become a habit as he walked down the hallway, toward the library. But when he'd caught a glance of Hartia earlier, it still looked like he hadn't slept in a while.  
  
The trip to the library proved useless, however. A glance inside told him Hartia was no longer there, though someone else was. Rai frowned slightly as he caught sight of a teacher, one he'd come to despise for cruel actions to his own students.  
  
Flameheart was leaning over a table, lips moving silently as he read from an open book. His eyes were wide and almost mad, a faint, slightly crazed smile on his pale lips. It sent shivers of apprehension and disgust down the clairvoyant's spine. The teacher was insane; someone would have to do something about him.  
  
It wasn't his business. He had more important things to worry about... Like the Bloody August.  
  
He'd finally caught a glimpse of her. Unfortunately, she wasn't even in this realm but entirely another, where a normal sorcerer couldn't go to without dying on either the way there or the way back. It took powerful magic to make such a jump. Nevertheless, it was important information he was sure the elders would want to have. 


	9. Chapter Eight: Tender Stillness

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: G  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, possible shounen ai  
  
Notes: Ah... I'm unsure what to say. *awkward silence*  
  
Oh! I know! Go to this website! http://mp.sigh.org/manga/index.html Read the updates; trust me, some of you might find a really cool treat there. XD  
  
  
  
  
Rai left the Elders' tower feeling somewhat grim. News that the Bloody August couldn't be physically harmed from their stance had angered the Elders more than anything else. It wouldn't do any good to report such useless information to them, they'd said. Let Childman deal with small factors.  
  
Well, fine then. He felt more at ease with his teacher, anyway.  
  
The young clairvoyant sighed softly, cradling the crystal orb in his palms. Being a seer was more work than one assumed and very draining. He needed a break.  
  
Almost as though answering his prayers, he heard a sudden loud thump coming from the library. Funny how things seemed to be occurring there lately. Curious and mildly alarmed, he walked in only to find Hartia repeatedly hitting his head against a bookshelf. The sight was so surprising and odd that Rai simply settled for being mildly alarmed.  
  
"... Hartia, what ARE you doing?" he asked calmly, only stressing the 'are' slightly.  
  
The redhead looked up, blinking. He looked vaguely dazed and in a little more than a bit of pain. "Splitting my head open. Why?" he asked as though it were an everyday occurrence.  
  
The green-haired sorcerer raised his visible eyebrow. "It looks painful. You know you can damage your eye easily that way."  
  
Hartia shook his head, rubbing at the sore spot in the center of his forehead. There was a growing bruise there and Rai knew he had probably saved him from literally splitting his skull in half. "Pardon?" the freckle-faced young man inquired.  
  
Rai's lips twitched but he didn't smile. "Your eye. Your third eye."  
  
Hartia blinked again, fingers ceasing in their gentle prodding of the sore spot. "My third eye," he repeated slowly.  
  
The green-eyed one shrugged slightly, the movement barely moving his shoulders. "Perhaps I am mistaken in assuming everyone has one, but most Roure and Cyntik sorcerers do." And, naturally, he was a mix of both. "It is what enables us to have unusual powers in the first place."  
  
"Interesting," his friend replied, not sounding entirely bored. "So not every sorcerer has one?"  
  
"Again, I am not sure."  
  
Hartia smiled ruefully. "Wouldn't that be interesting," he remarked, wincing slightly. "I admit that wasn't a smart idea... My head aches."  
  
"A simple prod there will give you a headache," Rai said wisely. "I would advise you to stay away from crystal until it leaves you."  
  
"Hm? Why?"  
  
This time Rai did smile, one hand caressing the crystal in his hands. "Because it enhances those powers," he said simply. "Or anything to do with the magical eye. Thus, it would strengthen the force of your pain."  
  
Hartia most likely thought he was being silly, for he chuckled. However, he did thank him and promise to do as he said.  
  
Without anything else to do, Rai bid him a good day and left. Though a pleasant and pointless encounter, it had been quite nice and he didn't feel nearly as tired anymore. Cheering Hartia up had something to do with it, certainly.  
  
Come to think of it, the clairvoyant prodigy had grown fond of Hartia since Krylancelo had left. Not that they hadn't been friends before, but Rai had still been rather distant. It was nice to act as though there were nothing crucial going on once in a while. It was quite... Relaxing. Or rejuvenating. He couldn't quite decide which.  
  
Ah, well. Time for a short nap, and then he had to get back to business. It was nice to pretend, yes, but one could only pretend for so long. Such was life.  
  
  
  
It was barely evening, but Orphen was tired. He refused to admit it, but no one would notice or care (well, maybe Majic would) if he went to bed a bit early. He kicked off his boots, not caring where they landed. Fingers fumbled to pull the thick chain over his head. The pendant made a dull thudding sound as he set it on the nightstand.  
  
Well. Ranting COULD take a lot out of a person, even a sorcerer. Orphen snorted softly, faintly amused by the notion as he lay down and closed his eyes. He was a bit restless, but didn't foresee any problems falling asleep.  
  
He was in a fuzzy state somewhere between sleep and awareness when something made him stir. He didn't open his eyes but did listen closely, trying not to appear awake. He must have failed, because the door closed and the last he heard was the sound of feet hurrying to get away. He swore softly but fell asleep almost immediately. He couldn't explain why, but he almost WANTED Majic to come in again. Time after time he'd proven he could be a complete ass toward the boy, but that hadn't stopped him from coming in before.  
  
And it wasn't like the past week had gone without visits. Majic had come three times, never saying anything but from what Orphen could see through his barely parted eyelids, the boy would clean quickly and quietly before sitting down in a chair and simply staring at him. Even with his eyes closed Orphen could feel that blue stare penetrate his skull, like the boy was trying to read his mind.  
  
That was ridiculous, naturally. Orphen was fairly certain of the boy's sorcerer bloodlines, and they didn't consist of Roure, Cyntik or anything of the like.  
  
He was falling asleep again, but this time Orphen realized he was aware of this fact. How... Strange.  
  
He was back at the Tower of Fangs, or something that looked awfully like it. It looked a bit newer than he remembered, or maybe the walls were just cleaner.  
  
'Odd,' he thought whilst walking through the hallways. 'Why am I dreaming of this place?' He didn't want to be here; this was the LAST place he wanted to be. Too many bad memories lay here...  
  
He paused, watching as a small child donned in dark robes of black, the colour all of the youngest students wore, but he looked horribly familiar. It took him a mere moment to recognize a four-year-old Majic Lyn.  
  
Wait... Majic?  
  
He was pressed close to a wall, so much that he blended in well with the shadows. Only his slightly mussed golden hair stood out, pale, chubby fingers and blue eyes darkened by shadows as the slightest gleam of light caught his hair. No one seemed to notice him as he simply stood there, watching something.  
  
Knowing the child wouldn't respond if he tried to talk to him, Orphen simply followed his gaze to two boys. One was a younger Hartia and the other a younger version of himself. They were going out to the courtyard, and Orphen realized that this was some time before he'd met Majic at the Tower. Prior to endangering him in an accident, Orphen had only seen Majic once and even then hardly gave him a passing thought.  
  
Young Majic was unbelievably pretty for a little boy. Orphen realized this with mild surprise; he'd never thought of Majic as pretty, but he WAS too feminine to be a normal boy. He'd always thought that, but pretty? This was new.  
  
Majic was staring at his hands, tiny eyebrows creased with concentration before he ran off. As though he didn't have a choice, the older sorcerer was following him. Once in his room, Majic held his hands out and uttered words that sent chills down Orphen's spine.  
  
"Ware wa hanatsu, hikari no hakujin!"  
  
It hardly had an effect, but there still was one. There was a flicker of light that seemed to skitter across the room, crackling on the wall and dying, leaving only a tiny split in the plaster-coated rock as evidence.  
  
'And he was only FOUR,' Orphen thought with faint amazement. It had taken him long enough to make up that spell, and Majic had been able to summon the smallest bit of it at age four...  
  
After a single blink Orphen found himself watching the same boy, same age, but a different situation. Hartia was in the room, pressing a cold, wet cloth to the side of a crying Majic's face. The boy's left eye was swollen and darkening with purplish-blue; it was going to be one nasty black eye.  
  
'I remember this,' he thought. 'This was the time Hartia told me I tried to attack him... But I never remembered doing that.' To this day he believed his best friend to be a bit delusional, but since Hartia had finally stopped mentioning it for a while Orphen had believed him to have finally given up on ridiculous notions like that.  
  
"There, there," dream-Hartia was saying in his gentle, soothing voice. "It's all right, Majic... C'mon, you can't cry. You wouldn't cry in front of Krylancelo, would you?"  
  
"That's different," dream-Majic whined, sniffling. "Krylancelo-sama... Krylancelo-sama... He..." Fine tremors began to shake the boy's body and he finally cried out, "He hates me!"  
  
"He doesn't," dream-Hartia said firmly, moving dream-Majic's hand to hold the cloth in place. "Stay here, I'm going to go get him."  
  
Dream-Majic visibly shrank. "No, please don't..."  
  
"Calm down. He probably doesn't even remember trying to hurt you. Just wait here; I'll be back shortly..."  
  
Orphen's chest felt oddly tight. Both of them believed he'd done it? But what did that MEAN? If he believed this dream, this figment of his imagination, that meant he really HAD-- Wait, yes. That was what dreams were. Figments of imagination. Unreal...  
  
"... So unreal, Orphen-sama."  
  
The soft murmur jerked him to the waking world. He started slightly, eyes clenching shut tightly. He heard a sharp, worried intake of breath and forced himself to relax. Majic had returned at some point while he'd been asleep, dreaming of... Something. All he remembered was a younger Hartia...  
  
He heard the young boy exhale softly. "Scared me," he murmured. "Ah... I know you're sleeping, but I can't tell... I... I wanted to thank you for sticking up for Mama." The childish endearment was back. "Father will probably thank you tomorrow... We're both grateful." A tiny smile graced the boy's lips. "You really are amazing, Orphen-sama..."  
  
Cold hands that sent chills down Orphen's spine touched his neck. He was tempted to sit up, to shove the boy away and demand what the hell he was doing, but then there was a small clicking noise and a clink of something small being put on the nightstand.  
  
"The chain is fragile, Orphen-sama," Majic murmured. "You can't sleep with it on..."  
  
So he'd just been removing it. Orphen hadn't known Majic had been aware of the small keepsake, but he was glad, for the moment, that he was. He didn't want to lose it, and Majic really was just trying to help in any way possible.  
  
He was such a weird kid. Perhaps that was what intrigued Orphen; he knew the boy's every move most of the time, but the few surprises were always fascinating ones.  
  
And anyway, Majic wasn't a distraction. Once Orphen had the sword, he was confident he could walk away and without a backward glance. He could save Azari on his own... If he only had the damn sword!  
  
There was the scraping sound of a chair being put back into place, soft, barely audible footsteps, and then the click of a lock. He was alone once again... Only now wide awake.  
  
The brunette sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He was beginning to become disturbed by Majic's visits. Though the boy's actions were generally predictable, there was something so simple that Orphen was missing from the bigger picture of things, and if he could just FIND it he knew it wouldn't bother him so much!  
  
Vague, distorted images of Hartia came to mind, causing a frown to crease his face. He was aware that he missed his friend, and he did sometimes wonder if he was any different from before...  
  
But until Azari was returned to her former self he wouldn't rest. He didn't think he COULD. Always, in the back of his mind, anxiety would nag him, sometimes coming to surface and making him worry. Was she surviving? That was an almost ridiculous question, as she had a dragon's body now, but was she coping? Was she mentally and emotionally all right?  
  
Orphen groaned softly, bringing a hand to his face. No, he couldn't worry about that. THAT was definitely distracting, not to mention it hurt him to think about her in peril, no matter what kind.  
  
His hand went to the nightstand, clutching not the pendant as expected, but the small ring. 'Azari... Please be careful...'  
  
Because if he lost her, he lost everything. It was that simple and that dangerous. 


	10. Chapter Nine: Tempting Proposal

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, possible shounen ai, mild language  
  
Notes: *sigh* D-chan has a sore throat. Y'know, I don't get sick often, but when I do it's MOST inconvenient. Tomorrow we're having a song contest in Japanese and I REALLY want to sing. Must drink much orange juice and go to bed a bit early if I want to get better, I suppose.  
  
I also need to re-burn Last Kiss. I'm gonna use it in a school project. XD Whee!  
  
  
  
  
Needless to say, the next few weeks were rather dull in Totokanta. Everyone was more cautious around Orphen, yet at the same time fear slowly began to disappear from their eyes. He no longer restricted himself to early morning or midnight to get outside. Now he could go out and the worst that happened was the occasional feeble insult, but a simple stare-down always solved THAT.  
  
As the weather grew colder, the tavern customers gradually became fewer. Most people only traveled in the summer, though come Christmas Bagup and Majic knew they would have their hands full. Families and friends would be visiting, and not everyone could accommodate so many people.  
  
Not only that, but the Everlastings' yearly party was historical. The Lyns had always been invited but were also always forced to turn down the invite because of business. Those that didn't go to the Everlasting party or stay at home came to the tavern to get drunk and party. Majic complained often because there was always such a mess left, but the extra money was always nice.  
  
Three days before the Eve of Christmas the Lyns, as always, received their yearly invite. Since they had to decline, as business was reaching its peak, Bagup offered his to a lone young man. Majic tried to give his to Orphen.  
  
"No," the young man said flatly, eyes closed. He was relaxed in a plush chair near the fire, the light of the flames reflecting off ornaments from the nearby Christmas tree (it was a bit scraggly, but Majic always did his best to "pretty it up") and lighting his face with odd colours.  
  
Majic frowned. "But... Orphen-sama-- Orphen-san," he quickly corrected himself, "I certainly can't go. And nobody hates you anymore, so--"  
  
Orphen sighed. He hadn't missed the honorary slip, and he honestly didn't know why Majic bothered. It didn't matter to him how the boy regarded him so long as he strayed from the affectionate -kun or -chan he had never been fond of even Azari calling him.  
  
"I don't like parties," he said, waving a hand dismissively and opening one eye lazily. When Majic didn't move or say anything, he added, "Besides, I think it's worse having them LIKE me. I can't stand half the women that keep trying to hit on me."  
  
Majic coloured slightly; it was true Orphen had been popular with the girls even before the whole sorcerer issue had been brought up, but now that it was acceptable many of the females had labeled him as "cool" and sought him frequently.  
  
He couldn't honestly say he blamed them. Orphen was very handsome, though his personality could be quite put-offing once you got to know him. At the same time he couldn't blame Orphen. One of the girls had given him quite a fright when he'd opened the downstairs storage closet and she had leapt out, shrieking the older sorcerer's name and tackling Majic by mistake. He'd screamed so loudly he'd woken Orphen up, and according to him, before noon was WAY too early to wake up.  
  
"But I can't go," he protested. "I'll be busy all night--"  
  
"Why?"  
  
Majic blinked, startled. "Because I work here, Orphen-sama." He seemed too surprised to correct himself and Orphen didn't bother to point it out.  
  
"You LIVE here," Orphen reminded him. "You're not an employee."  
  
Fine golden eyebrows furrowed. "But I have to do my part to keep the business running," Majic insisted. "Father--"  
  
"Seemed to do just fine when you were at the Tower of Fangs for five years," Orphen interrupted. "I think your father could handle one night."  
  
Majic bit his lip, staring down at the pristine white envelope in his hands. The older male knew that he was severely tempted; he most likely hadn't ever gone. He'd probably been too young when his mother was alive, and it seemed that once he'd returned home he'd thrown himself into helping his father run the tavern to keep himself busy.  
  
Orphen was satisfied, so he relaxed again. "So go tell him you'll only be gone a couple hours. You probably can't stay too late anyway. People will get drunk by--"  
  
"No," the softer voice murmured. "I can't go, Orphen-sa--n."  
  
Ugh. Orphen resisted the urge to grab the nearest solid object and slam it against his head-- Or preferably, at the moment, Majic's. "Whatever," he muttered.  
  
Since it was clear Orphen refused to accept the invite, Majic wandered off to ask his father to do something with it. Rather than be frustrated with the boy's stubbornness, Orphen thought of Christmas. He always did something with Azari, and in the past four years celebrating without her had just seemed... Wrong. He usually would try to find a nice, quiet place to just sit and contemplate.  
  
Ah, well. He could wander the quiet streets for a while. As long as he avoided the drunken idiots, he'd be perfectly content.  
  
Across the room Majic sat on the counter, swinging his legs like a child as he watched crowds of people walk in and out of the busy tavern. Behind him his father was busy with orders, and Majic was certain that any minute now his help would be needed. Orphen was wrong; Bagup needed Majic to run the tavern. So Majic was going to do his best to help his father stay a success!  
  
Sometime much later, round midnight, Orphen returned. He'd stepped out for a couple hours, cross after getting into a fight with a drunk, but now he looked smug and content.  
  
"Yo," he greeted a weary Bagup, who was tending to a few mens' drinking needs, and an exhausted Majic that looked half asleep on the stool, broom in hand.  
  
"Anything to drink, sorcerer?" Bagup inquired mildly.  
  
"Sure, old man," Orphen agreed. "The usual."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Majic yawned loudly and sleepily. "You were gone an awful long time, Orphen-sama." The brunette simply shrugged. "And you look awfully happy," he noted, sounding a tad more awake.  
  
At that Orphen's smirk broadened. "Payback is sweet," he said as Bagup handed him his usual ice cream soda. He stirred it with a spoon, watched a few bubbles rise, then sipped through the straw without complaint.  
  
The blue-eyed boy blinked. "Payback...?"  
  
"You remember those troll kids, right?" Orphen asked, seeming happy to tell someone of his great news. "Well, those damned idiots didn't want to pay me back so I got them to work for the Everlastings to pay off their debt."  
  
Majic nodded slowly, eyelids drooping. "That's great, Orphen-sama," he murmured.  
  
"That's it?" one of the customers asked loudly, his speech slurred a bit. "From the look on yer face I thought you'd gotten laid 'er somethin'."  
  
The furious blush that overtook Majic's pale face didn't go unnoticed. Scowling and feeling a bit too defensive, Orphen snapped, "Watch your mouth when innocents are present, you moron." For some reason that only made Majic's cheeks grow redder.  
  
"Why don't you go to bed, son," Bagup said gently. "I think I can handle it from here. It's only a few customers."  
  
Majic looked like he wanted to protest, but one glance at the men in drunken stupors changed his mind. "Goodnight, Father. Orphen-sama," he added hastily, almost shyly, before he practically fled the room.  
  
Orphen shook his head. 'I worry more for that kid's sanity than I do my own,' he thought in faint amusement.  
  
It wasn't long before he turned in for the night as well. No doubt there wouldn't be a midnight visit from the blonde boy tonight, and Orphen honestly couldn't bring himself to feel disappointed. Majic had been coming less and less, to the point Orphen hadn't noticed another visit for three weeks starting tonight. Well, at least he didn't have to worry.  
  
He was just relaxing in the dark room lit only by starlight and a waning moon when a thought struck him.  
  
He hadn't gone straight to find the midget idiots Vulcan and Dortin. He'd just gone out for a walk, his original intention. After a while he'd come across a lake he'd never noticed before.  
  
It was cold out. Orphen didn't have many warm clothes, but a tattered cape had served him perfectly well for a few years. There had been a somewhat strong breeze, nearly rendering the cape useless, but what had surprised him most was that he'd been to that lake before.  
  
Once with his former partner, he had come awfully close to Totokanta without actually visiting it. There was another village across the lake he and Stephen, his partner, had stayed at. What had been interesting was the ruined tower in the middle of the lake. It had intrigued Stephen the most and had proved useful for its sorcerous runes inside, but in daylight it was just a ragged old tower, something not very unremarkable.  
  
In moonlight, though, it struck Orphen as beautiful. Silver made the clear water sparkle, and even the jagged old tower looked mysterious and compelling. Orphen had teleported himself to the top, saving himself from getting wet, and had spent a good few minutes simply staring at the scenery.  
  
Someone else had been there. He could hear splashing at one point and had glanced, but rippled proved that whoever or whatever it was had gone underwater. Telling himself it wasn't important, he'd turned away once again, ignoring the proceeding splashes.  
  
He was vaguely curious as to who would be swimming so late at night, and in such cold weather, but he dismissed the thought immediately. It didn't matter whom or what had been there. It didn't connect to anything important to him. He knew it hadn't been anyone he'd known. Had it been a hateful villager he would have been taunted, another crazed fangirl and she would have squealed or perhaps fainted before reaching the water. He knew Majic wasn't weird enough to go swimming in winter, especially after insisting he help his father, and anyone from the Tower would have called out to him, or joined him on the rooftop.  
  
He shook his head again, eyes lapsing shut. It wasn't important... And he was tired now. It had been some work trying to shut Vulcan up, though getting the two to work for the Everlastings had been easy enough. He'd pulled Dortin aside and had given him strict instructions to pay careful attention to a certain sword. He was to be let known every day that it was safe, unharmed, and fully sheathed. No questions, just do it. Dortin had been all too happy to comply, probably nervous because of Orphen's tone.  
  
But even though he didn't have the sword, he had at least one competent person watching over it when he couldn't. All he could honestly do now was wait and see if Azari came. While part of him dreaded the eventual encounter, as he knew some people might get hurt in the process or, worse, try to kill her because of her current state and form, another part ached to see her again. He missed her so badly.  
  
Feeling bitter and depressed, Orphen was restless until he finally managed to drift off around dawn. He slept through the sunrise; the light warming his sensitive eyelids was fire in his dream, fire that refused to be quenched no matter what spell he used. They were the eternal flames of hell, and unless he could help Azari turn back into a human, that was where he would end up.  
  
Amidst all the fire of his dreams, someone wept.  
  
  
  
Orphen awoke late the next day, even for him. It was nearly dinner time and the tavern was packed. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve he knew, and many people were using tonight as a pre-celebration before the Everlasting party.  
  
Bagup Lyn looked amused. "Good morning."  
  
Orphen yawned widely, stretching leisurely. "Evening, old man."  
  
Unperturbed, Bagup gestured for him to have a seat. "Ah... I'm not hungry," Orphen declined. And he wasn't. Bad dreams last night killed any interest of even eating, and he personally found that somewhat disturbing.  
  
"Have a seat anyway," Bagup said. "I have a favour to ask of you."  
  
Perplexed, Orphen complied. It was nearly half an hour before Bagup could really talk to him, but once things began to calm down a bit he stole a few minutes to converse.  
  
"I want to know, sorcerer... Does my son have any promise of being able to use magic?"  
  
Orphen blinked, startled. "I don't kn..." he started but trailed off, remembering his dream. "Possibly. I'd have to ask him to perform to be sure," he said.  
  
Bagup nodded slightly. "I'm sure he does. So then, Orphen, I know you're having debt problems." Orphen scowled but the tavern owner continued before he could say anything. "I have a proposal for you."  
  
He wasn't sure he was going to like this. "I'm listening."  
  
"Teach my son magic. I'm damn near positive he can use it, I think those idiots at that Tower haven't a clue what they're talking about." At Orphen's expression he smiled grimly. "They sent me a letter explaining his expulsion. I didn't tell Majic; I'm still waiting for him to tell me."  
  
What a cunning old man! Orphen couldn't help but appreciate that. "You want me to be a teacher?"  
  
"Yes," Bagup said firmly. "I don't want my son growing up in this town without having some adventure. He deserves it; he does too much and gets out too little. He has few friends, but perhaps some traveling, some being of use with magic... Perhaps that would do him good. I'm willing to pay you half of what I make, sorcerer."  
  
Half?! Orphen loved money; he admitted it. It was very useful, especially when you didn't have it. But even so, half was too much. "One-fourth or nothing," he said.  
  
Once again struck with amusement, Bagup agreed. "Deal. When can you start?"  
  
Orphen paused then smirked. "Shortly after Christmas all right?"  
  
"It doesn't matter to me."  
  
This was certainly going to change the already tense relationship between Orphen and the blonde boy! However, he had no doubt that at some point he might need a young, healthy, willing-to-work teenager, and Majic would fit the role perfectly. Not to mention he wasn't nearly as obnoxious as most others his age!  
  
With the new proposal and promise weighing on his mind, Orphen didn't have time to be depressed that evening. In fact, he was trying not to laugh as he pictured Majic's reaction... 


	11. Chapter Ten: Dreams

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, possible shounen ai, mild swearing, angst  
  
Notes: Well, I have my slide show nearly completed. It's a school project for the first semester and it's supposed to be about my life... So, naturally, nearly half of it featured anime. XD I managed to squeeze in two songs, too! "Last Kiss" and a song by Omi Minami called "Tenderness." Squee! I have Majic singing in my slide show! ^_^  
  
Hm. We also had out singing contest today, even with my sore throat, but since I hardly talked prior to the class I managed to sing OK. We won by default; no one wanted to challenge us. -_- Cowards.  
  
Okay, ah... *sweatdrop* I doubt there'll be any official Orphen/Majic in this fic, so I may be breaking off in a sequel once we get caught up with the first episode of the series. My idea is that I'll skip over most of it and pick up near the end. However, I MIGHT write a series of short stories for the in-between time that I can make up like off-camera episodes. I dunno; is that a good idea or no? If enough people like it I'll seriously consider it, mmkay?  
  
(( blah )) indicates flashbacks  
  
  
  
  
"WHA~T?!" Majic screeched. The plate in his hands slipped and shattered on the floor. He looked flustered as he knelt and tried to pick up the pieces, but he kept looking back up at Orphen, then to his father and back to Orphen. "You're going to WHAT?!"  
  
Orphen sighed and stretched a hand out over the broken dish. "Ware wa iyasu, shayou no shoukon," he said. The jagged pieces shuddered and gathered themselves together, forming a full, unbroken or cracked plate and lifting into the air. Majic snatched it before he could fall again and quickly set it down.  
  
Bagup didn't look at his son's baffled gaze as he busied himself with customers. It was the morning of Christmas Eve and Orphen had just informed the boy of his new task of apprenticeship.  
  
"Orphen-sama!" he whispered in a panicked voice. "Y-you can't! I mean... I can't! Father--"  
  
"Your father was the one that hired me," the young sorcerer interrupted with utter calm, trying not to smirk in amusement. Majic's expression was priceless.  
  
"WHAT?" The blonde boy's expression switched to worried, biting his full lower lip. "But... But I never... I..."  
  
Orphen shrugged. "I think he has a fair idea," he said. "Besides, just because you can't perform the Towers' spells doesn't mean you can't use magic."  
  
"But... Orphen-sama--"  
  
Orphen cut him off by clapping a larger hand on his shoulder, grinning. "Now, now, I have to save the explanations for the actual lessons. Don't worry, we won't start until you have more free time." 'Since you INSIST on helping your father and all,' he added silently. If Majic wasn't so stubborn on helping Bagup so much they most likely could have started right then if he'd wanted to, but...  
  
'Weird kid...'  
  
Majic's mouth opened and shut a few times, as though he couldn't figure out how to make it work properly. All he could utter was a feeble protest of Orphen's name before his father calling for some assistance forced a distraction.  
  
That had definitely been worth it, Orphen decided as he stood and stretched lazily. Just for Majic's expression, it had been absolutely worth accepting the job.  
  
And if he was right about Majic's sorcerer bloodlines, then teaching him shouldn't be too much a problem at all!  
  
The blonde boy had caused a bit of a commotion with his earlier cry of surprise. Orphen found several pairs of eyes on him, much to his annoyance. He didn't have time for this, he decided as he walked out. He had business to do... Such as checking in with a certain midget brother named Dortin.  
  
He grimly hoped that the boy had enough sense left to keep an especially close eye on the sword since there would be quite a crowd. If he lost it for any reason... Well, Orphen was already envisioning the painful, bloody deaths of the two moron brothers.  
  
He didn't dare go straight to the mansion. Some people were already arriving in time for the party anyway, and without an invitation he'd create a scene. Damn it. He should have accepted Majic's...  
  
Orphen chose a nice large tree a safe distance from the house, hoisting himself up and coming to rest on the thick branch. It wasn't a bad resting spot, and the scenery could have been worse.  
  
In fact, it was downright peaceful. No one noticed him hiding there; the shadows were dark enough to keep him hidden. No one disturbed him. It was the perfect place to take a nap.  
  
So he did.  
  
He believed he opened his eyes sometime later until he realized his surroundings were completely different from that of the Everlasting grounds-- Or even Totokanta. He was at the Tower of Fangs... And with a sudden rush he realized that he'd had a similar dream before. But why hadn't he remembered it, and why was he only remembering NOW?  
  
What was going ON?  
  
It was as though he'd never left. Dream-Hartia was just closing the door behind him, leaving a bruised dream-Majic alone in the room. The blonde boy looked around before his eyes came to rest directly on Orphen.  
  
This startled the brunette sorcerer. How could he see him? Wasn't this just a weird sort of dream?  
  
The child's lips were moving, as though he were trying to speak, but no sound came forth. Then suddenly he bent over, hand flying to his mouth as silent coughs shook his body. One arm went around his tiny abdomen as he coughed even harder, blood spilling between his pale fingers.  
  
"What the-- Majic?!" Orphen blurted, knowing he couldn't be heard. "What the hell's wrong with you?"  
  
Blonde lashes fluttered as the boy suddenly pitched forward, losing consciousness. Orphen knelt beside him, reaching out to shake him even though he knew it was just a dream and physical contact wasn't possible.  
  
So it came as a surprise when he did, indeed, make contact with dream-Majic's shoulder. It felt solid but there was no warmth of coldness. There was no touch to compare it with; it was like touching solid air, only that wasn't possible. Or like a table but without the smooth coldness. He couldn't begin to explain it, but it disturbed him to think about it so he shoved it to the back of his mind to worry about later.  
  
He turned the child over. The arm fell to the ground limply, revealing a rather gruesome sight as blood was smeared over his mouth. Orphen grimaced but remained silent.  
  
It took him a moment to realize that there was blood on his robes as well. In fact, there was a rather sick, gaping hole there... And he KNEW it hadn't been there before, and this COULDN'T have happened to Majic; he could have died--  
  
He WAS dead, he realized with icy shock. At least, dream-Majic was. But there was no WAY this could have happened in real life, not to mention Majic seeing him was weird in itself since he hadn't in the prior dream... So then what...?  
  
Orphen startled himself awake. He was breathing hard, face damp and his headband clinging to his sticky forehead. He wiped his face, shaking his head. Nightmare... Blood... Majic! He remembered!  
  
Before he could pursue the thought, he saw a familiar small figure stepping outside. Dortin waved to him, signaling the sword was still there and sheathed, exactly as it should be. Orphen gave a somewhat shaky wave back, grateful it couldn't be noticed from a distance. The short one disappeared again, overly large glasses glinting in the setting sun.  
  
How long had he been asleep? It had been brighter out before he'd begun to relax. And now his head hurt from the odd angle it'd been resting on the tree, not to mention bark digging into his back was awfully uncomfortable.  
  
Orphen leapt down from the branch, stretching sore limbs before making his way back to the tavern. No doubt it would be just getting loud and rowdy now, but it wasn't like he had anything better to do anymore.  
  
He paused in mid-step, a frown creasing his face. His amber eyes darkened to burnt sienna as he said coldly, "You can come out, you know."  
  
Silence greeted him, and then the sound of soft footsteps. The walker was trying to be silent, but that was yet another thing Orphen had perfected over the years; sharp hearing.  
  
"You're good," the voice said in soft amusement.  
  
"Been a while," he returned without facing them.  
  
"It certainly has been... Krylancelo."  
  
  
  
It was barely nightfall and already Majic was growing tired. He knew that if it kept up he'd be sent to bed, not just because he would look exhausted but also because the villagers tended to have foul mouths when drunk and his father wished to keep him away from it as best as possible. It was a major reason why Majic was as innocent as he was today.  
  
"Majic, could you take the empty crates to the back room?" his father asked as the blonde boy finished washing the dirty dishes.  
  
"Of course, Father," he replied, wiping his hands hastily on his shirt and hurrying to pick up two of the wooden crates. They weren't necessarily heavy, but they were awfully large and difficult to walk around while carrying. He could make two more trips back before he was finished.  
  
The storage room was already packed with empty crates, but once business calmed down a bit it would be used for firewood to make more room. Bagup believed in putting all his supplies to good use, and Majic having been brought up the way he had couldn't say he disagreed with the method. In a way it made things easier for him; at least the crates were easier to carry as piles of wood!  
  
On his second trip back he caught a snippet of conversation from two men and a woman, all of whom were probably around their mid-thirties. They were a bit tipsy and pink in the face and Majic honestly did try to ignore them, but his mind refused to let go of the single word one of them uttered before they broke into drunken giggles.  
  
'A sorcerer?' he thought with unbearable curiosity. On his final trip he made sure to hide out in the storage room, pretending to be busy reorganizing some canned goods.  
  
"Yeah, but the Everlasting bitch told us to leave him alone," one guy protested in a slurred voice.  
  
The other man waved a hand, taking a deep swig from his bottle. "Yeah, yeah, I know... Heh, t'bad she wasn't there for that sorceress twenny-somthin' years back, eh?"  
  
Majic froze, completely forgetting about trying to appear busy. Sorceress? Twenty years back? His mother had been here around then, hadn't she?  
  
"No, no, it was, like, fifteen," the woman argued, shaking her head.  
  
"Eh, close enough... Feel sorry for the child, though."  
  
Now Majic was puzzled. He leaned against the wall, pressing his ear to it so as to hear better. Child? Did they mean him?  
  
"Yeah, it'd've probably been a sorcerer too," the second man muttered. "No way to know now, of course..."  
  
Something was off. Majic fumbled with ideas in his mind, trying to bring up a simple little fact that could clear the fog of confusion in his mind. He wasn't yet fourteen, so fifteen years back was BEFORE he was born...  
  
"Well, lucky for 'em they had the blonde brat, eh? 'Therwise their family've died out with just them..."  
  
Of course. It made perfect sense. The final piece had been clicked into place, making the picture clear as crystal. Majic realized it with a sort of dazed numbness, and he hadn't realized his knees had given out until they hit the floor with a painful knock.  
  
A child before him. His mother had been pregnant with a child before him, and it had been killed somehow. The villagers had killed him or her... He could have had an older brother or sister. Either that, or he might never have been BORN!  
  
The door opened further. "Majic, what's taking so long-- Majic?" his father repeated, sounding more concerned. Majic clenched his eyes shut, trying desperately to drive away the cold tingling feeling of nothingness. Was this how he would have felt if he'd never existed? Would he have been born as someone else... Or not at all? Would he just have been NOTHING?  
  
For a reason he couldn't explain, the thought just completely terrified him. To not be... To not exist... To not feel sunshine, smell wildflowers, see rainbows, taste snowflakes... To not have known Orphen, Hartia, Rai...  
  
"Oh, God," he whimpered, hands flying up to cover his ears as though that would keep the frightening thoughts away.  
  
His father's hands were on his shoulders, though seemed to be at a loss. Majic was normally well balanced; nothing like this had ever happened before. Quite honestly, he didn't know how to deal with it. "Majic, what happened?"  
  
"Oi~," Orphen's voice drawled as he drew near the storage room. "Y'know, without either of you out there it's getting pretty bloody..." His voice trailed off as he entered, the sight sending him into momentary shock. Majic was huddled over much in the same fashion the dream boy had been. But there was no blood and Majic wasn't coughing, so he was able to calm down before jumping to conclusions.  
  
A mumble that suspiciously sounded like, "Mother," slipped from the blonde boy's lips before he collapsed.  
  
"Just unconscious," Bagup reported, feeling his son's forehead. "Wonder what happened, though...?"  
  
Orphen closed his eyes briefly, trying to battle the anxiety gnawing at him from within. He could still hear his voice, his plea, his warning...  
  
(( "Krylancelo... Please don't get involved anymore. Just let us take care of it...  
  
"... No?" A sigh. "I guess it can't be helped... But I tried. Stay away from Azari, Krylancelo. Sensei will take care of... Everything."  
  
A pause. "Oh... And Rai says you should pay more attention to your dreams. They may mean more than you think." ))  
  
Orphen backed out of the room, giving Bagup room to pick up his unconscious son and carry him upstairs. He brought a hand up to rub his forehead anxiously. How had they known about his dream? Damn it, why couldn't he have stayed AWAY? He'd nearly promised to do as he said, all because of those pain-filled eyes...  
  
"Hartia," he muttered, clenching a fist and pounding it against the doorframe. "Damn it..." 


	12. Chapter Eleven: Inhuman Cruelty

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, shounen ai, language, some gore  
  
Notes: I'm not sure if I'm teetering in the edge here with the rating, so... Tell me if I need to either raise the rating or tone down the violence, mmkay?  
  
D-chan's not as sick anymore! She had her ears [painfully] cleaned out, but her sore throat's fading and she can talk now, so...  
  
And school's over until January 7th! WAI! *claps* Winter break! Christmas! PRESENTS! XD And Kiana's coming to visit for those two weeks, so... MORE YAY! ^_^ So if the updates between now and the 7th are fewer than before, I'm sorry. Most likely I'm being distracted by my friends or cousins. ^^;  
  
  
  
  
It was near pitch black outside with little moon to provide light. What light was in the sky filtered through the dusty window of a rather small room, throwing silver across the scuffed floorboards. It was rather bare with nothing to show it belonged to someone but a small photo on a scratched dresser.  
  
There was a soft thud of a door closing that startled another occupant of the room awake. He blinked, hand coming up to rub his eyes. He hadn't meant to fall asleep; that had been an accident. He stood from his sitting position in a chair he'd brought in from his own rented room. It was chilly and he wasn't wearing much more than what he'd worn earlier that day, but he'd been in colder places. He'd be all right.  
  
After glancing at the sleeping boy under the covers (which hadn't been pulled up before; perhaps that had been Bagup leaving and he'd done it himself) Orphen walked over to the dresser.  
  
He held the photograph up in the moonlight to get a better look. It was amazing the boy even had one; photos were hard to make and could take up to a year to complete perfectly.  
  
Clearly it had been taken at least ten years ago. A smiling woman was holding a blonde-haired boy in her arms; the child couldn't have been more than two. Majic and his mother, obviously. Bagup must have been the one to take it since he wasn't in the picture, but from the angling moonlight it was hard to see Majic's mother's features. Orphen tilted it a little, but then it was thrown into shadow. He snorted softly; how typical.  
  
"Nnm," a blonde boy moaned softly, shifting restlessly beneath his covers. Orphen set the photo back down before going back to his seat, spinning the chair so that the back faced the surely awakening boy and straddling it backwards.  
  
Blue eyes opened slowly, looking dazed. "Where...?" Majic mumbled sleepily, an arm coming up to cover his face. There was a long pause before he suddenly sat up, turning to look at Orphen. "What--?!"  
  
Anticipating the outburst, Orphen's hand covered the boy's mouth just in time. "Hush," he hissed. "If you wake up the guests, you'll lose business. You don't want that for your father, right?"  
  
Majic nodded slowly and the older sorcerer deemed it safe to remove his hand. He did so and the first thing Majic whispered was, "What time is it?"  
  
Orphen shrugged. "I dunno. I fell asleep myself... But it can't yet be midnight; your father just left."  
  
"Oh..." Majic turned his head away to stare at the coverlet. "Um... Orphen-sama?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
The brunette scoffed slightly. "Good question. I mean, it's not like I care about my pupil-to-be, right?"  
  
Majic's head jerked up, his eyes stricken with guilt. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean--"  
  
"Shh," Orphen warned him. Being the obedient boy he was, Majic fell silent. "I was teasing. Don't take everything so seriously, all right?" He received a small nod in reply. Inwardly, the amber-eyed male snorted. Majic was seriously whipped... But when he thought about it, a lot of that influence might have come from Flameheart. Well, it would certainly explain why the boy was always so edgy around him, right?  
  
It was a good enough answer for Orphen. Now he didn't have to feel so guilty. "So what happened?" he asked mildly. "Your father was pretty worried, you know."  
  
"I know," came the almost feminine reply. "I... I don't know why I... I'm sorry," he stammered, face tinted oddly. Had it been brighter Orphen was sure he could be bright red, but as it was, it was hard to tell.  
  
God, couldn't the kid ever just give a straight answer? Orphen opened his mouth to snap at him, but wilted as the memory of a bloodstained corpse came to mind. Never mind it was just a dream; it had seemed so realistic it was frightening. He settled for sighing heavily. "I just want to know what happened, that's all," he finally said.  
  
"Why?" Majic asked suspiciously.  
  
Well, he honestly didn't have a good reason. So he settled for the truth. "Because I'm curious."  
  
It was Majic's turn to sigh. He shifted beneath the covers, one knee coming up for him to rest his elbow on. Then the other came up and he hugged them to his chest, resting his chin. "I was just doing what Father asked," he whispered. "I was moving the crates to the storage room and... I overheard these two customers talking." Guilt spread through his features. "I'm horrible, aren't I? Eavesdropping and all..."  
  
"It's human nature," Orphen returned simply. "Go on."  
  
Mildly startled, Majic complied. "Um, well... I heard them talking about my mother. She had a baby before me, but... I guess she... She miscarried or something."  
  
Orphen was silent for a long while. Now he remembered why Totokanta had sounded so familiar. Once, during a history lesson, it had been mentioned that the most recent sorcerer killing had occurred in a faraway town called Totokanta, where a pregnant sorceress had been stabbed through the belly. She had managed to heal herself, but the baby had died by then and there was no hope of reviving the dead, back then or even now. It was a cruel thing to kill an unborn child, thought Orphen in disgust.  
  
Not only that, they hadn't allowed her to bury the fetus, or even cremate it. It must have been messy, but they'd simply packed it in a box and thrown it in the nearby river. What a horrible thing for the mother to go through...  
  
"I see." No, he wouldn't tell Majic the details. They would only frighten him further. "And that's why you fainted?"  
  
Majic looked embarrassed again. "No," he protested. "I just... I realized that if THAT baby had been born, I never would have existed..." He swallowed. "Have you ever thought of that, Orphen-sama? Of not existing? What would you be? Would you be some inanimate object of the world or... Just nothing? Is there a place for unborn souls?"  
  
Orphen blinked, surprised. That was awful deep thinking for such a young boy; perhaps Majic's mentality was a bit more advanced than he'd ever given him credit for. Even still, he lacked the common sense older people had, not to mention he was still a child in so many ways. Naturally such an unfathomable thought would frighten him into shutting down for a short while.  
  
"I don't think about that kind of stuff," he replied. "It's depressing."  
  
"You don't like thinking of depressing things?"  
  
"No," Orphen replied, slightly annoyed. Hadn't he just said that?  
  
"Then..." Majic trailed off, looking uncertain. "Why do you think of Azari-san so often?"  
  
Orphen frowned but quickly shoved his temper aside. It was late; Majic was half-asleep and didn't know what he was saying. He could refrain from decking the boy just this once. "Because she was like my sister."  
  
"And you loved her?"  
  
Orphen blinked, taken aback. He knew Hartia had known, probably Rai as well, but how could the golden-haired child have possibly found out? Hartia wasn't the type to tell everyone personal secrets; he would rather tease them about it in private. Rai didn't care to gossip and would have said it was none of Majic's business... So how had he found out? He hadn't been THAT obvious, had he?  
  
"Yeah," he admitted.  
  
Majic leaned forward, causing the older sorcerer to lean back reflexively. "Like sister or like girlfriend?" he pressed, looking anxious.  
  
Now Orphen was uncomfortable. The truth was, both were correct. Azari had been like an older sister to him since he was a child, but over that time his brotherly fondness turned into... Something else. Even at twenty years of age he wasn't completely certain it was love... But if nothing else, yes... "She was like a very close sibling."  
  
Perhaps Majic realized he wouldn't get a more elaborate answer, for he simply nodded and lowered his eyes. Then suddenly his face coloured and he jerked back, as though realizing how close he'd unintentionally gotten.  
  
Unsure of what to say in the awkward moment, Orphen scratched the back of his head. "Ah, well... You can sleep alone now, can't you?"  
  
Looking dejected and trying to hide it, Majic nodded. The older male felt that stab of guilt and the dream-memory coming back, but he forced himself to ignore it. However, he did allow enough of it to let him say, "Good night, Majic."  
  
"Orphen-sama..."  
  
The sienna-eyed sorcerer shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a few minutes. Part of him felt guilty, though he couldn't begin to explain why. But there was Majic, clearly struggling to come to terms with his own life, and he'd just walked out.  
  
But he wasn't a baby and he shouldn't have been treated like one, the other part of him argued. And while Orphen was going to become his teacher, he was far from becoming a guardian, and teachers had to keep themselves distanced from their students. That was the only way they'd live and learn, by not getting either party involved in each others' business... Right?  
  
Somehow, he felt uncertain about that.  
  
  
  
"UWAAAAAH!"  
  
The loud scream seemed to echo throughout the entire tavern. Orphen rolled right out of bed, smacking his head on the corner of the nightstand. He swore violently, rubbing the sore spot and finding a bit of blood. He snarled softly; the scream had sounded an awful lot like Majic. And it wasn't anywhere near noon yet! The boy was going to PAY for this.  
  
Orphen hastily dressed, storming out only to find most of the other customers doing likewise. Some were grumbling, others were murmuring, all were curious as to what the commotion was about.  
  
Annoyed and too impatient to wait, Orphen muttered, "Ware odoru, ten no roukaku." In a flurry of faintly shimmering traces of magic he disappeared, reappearing downstairs and in a safe corner where people hadn't crowded yet.  
  
He saw Majic at the front door, broom forgotten at his feet and fists clenched. His face was pale, his eyes wide and horrified. Frowning, Orphen walked over to him; no one dared stop him. "What's going on?" he demanded.  
  
"Why are you waking us up so goddamn early, you brat?!" a cranky teenager called.  
  
"Shut up," Orphen snapped, his patience wearing thin quickly in the early morning. He was generally unpleasant and hard to get along with, but mornings could make him particularly nasty and he could easily lose his temper and rational thought.  
  
"O... Orphen... S-sama..." Majic stammered, pointing a trembling hand on the front step. Orphen blinked and stepped forward, kneeling to get a better look.  
  
Blood splatters decorated the dust and step, dripping from what looked like a baby pig that had been stabbed brutally. It couldn't have been born more than a few days ago; its skin was still soft and smooth with only the barest hint of baby fuzz. It had been mutilated beyond immediate recognition, and it didn't take a genius to connect this event to another.  
  
Of course, Majic had no idea how his could-have-been brother or sister had been killed, so he was simply horrified that someone had done this. Only a cruel person could do this, and on Christmas morning! They must have done it sometime during the night; the blood wasn't exactly fresh.  
  
A heavy sigh sounded from behind him. Orphen glanced back at Bagup, who was shaking his head sadly. "It was foolish to think sorcerers have been fully accepted in this town," he said.  
  
Orphen agreed. There were still people out there, perhaps much more than half the town. After all, they'd been hating sorcerers so long, why should they stop just because the most influential person in town said to? It wasn't a dictatorship; they didn't HAVE to accept him... But they certainly could pretend to.  
  
"I don't understand," Majic said shakily. "What does killing a baby... What does murdering..." He swallowed, clenching his eyes shut and finally gathering the nerve to speak. "What does THAT have to do with sorcerers? Father?"  
  
"Never you mind," Bagup said firmly. "Go back to bed, Majic. I'll open the tavern this morning."  
  
"But--"  
  
Orphen stood and placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. "He said go to bed," he reminded him. "I'd suggest you listen to your father." He gave a small shove. "Come on."  
  
With one last helpless and pained look at the dead animal, Majic nodded and relented, though the older sorcerer didn't remove his hand and continued to steer him to his room. "Back to bed," he told everyone else. "It's none of your concern."  
  
He frowned faintly; some of the nearer ones were trying to hide their smiles. One of them, perhaps all, could have been connected to the sick joke... But this was no time to be pointing fingers.  
  
"To bed," he repeated, giving the young teen a final gentle push. Majic turned around and opened his mouth to protest, but Orphen leaned close and murmured in a voice only he could hear, "I'll demonstrate some magic later if you go to bed now, I promise."  
  
That settled the problem instantly. Majic's eyes lit up for the first time in days. "All right, Orphen-sama," he said eagerly, frantically fleeing to his room. Orphen shook his head, smirking.  
  
Bribery was a very useful tool indeed. 


	13. Chapter Twelve: Questioning Curiosity

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, shounen ai, mild language, mild angst  
  
Notes: Well, SB is drawing to a close, as you might be able to tell from this chapters' content. I think I'll go up to the end of episode two or three before ending this, though. But so you know, this one's almost done and the sequel will be a series of short stories about things that happen between/with episodes of the first series, all right?  
  
Right. Let's hope I can do this.  
  
Happy Holidays!  
  
  
  
  
In the past nine moons Orphen had been lazing around Totokanta, the Lyn males had grown used to his daily activities. Rarely would he get up before noon, and then he would go out for a walk (one could only guess where). Then he could come back for lunch and go out again, sometimes allowing Majic to tag along in hopes of learning some magic, though most of the time was spent procrastinating such lessons. Then it would be time for dinner and he'd go to bed, leaving the other two to their usual night activities of cleaning and caring for the tavern.  
  
So it came as a surprise to Majic when he was roused early one morning by the usually lazy sorcerer.  
  
"Oi, Majic. Get up," the slightly nasal yet pleasant voice of the blonde boy's teacher's voice sounded. Majic groaned and turned over, rubbing his eyes sleepily.  
  
"Unm," he mumbled, sitting up. "It's not yet sunrise, O--"  
  
Orphen made an impatient noise. "Well, I'm awake now, and if you want a demonstration, now's the time to come see it."  
  
The promise of a demonstration was all the boy needed to wake up. "I'll be there in a minute!"  
  
He heard the young man chuckle in amusement before stepping out. Majic scrambled out of bed, hurrying to change. This was a rare opportunity! He knew Orphen was usually too preoccupied to teach him anything; Azari was always weighing on his thoughts. He still didn't understand why he'd taken it upon himself to turn her back to normal, but then he supposed that he would have done the same thing in his place.  
  
His father was already up, naturally. It wasn't yet time to open up, but he was awake nonetheless. "Father, I--"  
  
"Go on," he cut in, managing to not sound rude. "See if you can learn something with what I'm paying him."  
  
Unable to hide his grin, Majic nodded and bolted out the door. Orphen was waiting, looking bored as there was absolutely no activity this time in the morning.  
  
"Ready? Great, let's go," he said, setting out on the road.  
  
Majic followed close behind. "Um... Orphen-sama, where're we going?"  
  
The brunette sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "First off," he started, giving the boy a sideways glance, "You've got to start addressing me as your teacher... Oshou-sama will do."  
  
Majic fought the urge to blush and nodded. "All right, Oshou-sama."  
  
"Second, we're going out a ways so no one will be disrupted. There should be an empty area outside of town," the older sorcerer explained. He paused for a long moment. "While we're walking there you can ask any questions you want to," he added somewhat reluctantly, as though he didn't really want to lecture.  
  
Majic, however, was excited and simply bursting with questions. "You mentioned different kinds of magic before."  
  
Orphen nodded. "Yeah. There's black magic, which, essentially, all sorcerers practice. And then there's white magic; we don't really call those magic-users sorcerers unless they also practice black magic. They're more well known as mages. Everyone at the Tower of Fangs are referred to as black magic practicers, though."  
  
"What other kinds of magic-users are there?"  
  
"All kinds, really. There are different races, come to that. Take me, for example. I'm part Xertil, which is the race that only practiced black magic so long ago. I also have Sinelna blood, who are basically sorcerers that need a voice as a medium." He smirked. "I also have pretty rare blood as well; the Majestarte can make up their own incantations. It's forbidden at the Tower of Fangs, of course, but I always practiced in secret."  
  
"I know," Majic said earnestly. With a start, Orphen remembered that he DID know... Which was probably what unnerved him.  
  
"Yes, right," he muttered.  
  
Now the blonde boy was even more curious. "What am I, then?"  
  
Orphen frowned. "I don't know. I haven't seen you practice effective magic." If his dream had been correct so long ago, though, then Majic definitely had Mystr blood. The Mystrs were a type of sorcerer that could mimic other sorcerers' attacks. It wasn't rare, but it wasn't the most common, either. It was possible for any sorcerer to mimic anothers' power, but very rare for it to work the first time, even just a bit... Which was what a Mystr could do.  
  
"What was Rai-san?"  
  
Orphen blinked, mildly startled. Majic had known Rai? How had that slipped by him? "Um... A bit Roure, which is the psychic-strong kind of sorcerer, and definite Cyntik, who're clairvoyants."  
  
Majic frowned. "Aren't they the same thing?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Orphen scoffed. "They're very different; you can't just lump sorcerers into one big pile. That's how racism came about, you know."  
  
Majic flinched. "I'm sorry, Orphen-sama."  
  
"Oshou-sama," Orphen corrected him, coming to a stop. "Wait here; I'll be right back." Though curious, the newly appointed apprentice did as he was told. The dark-haired sorcerer walked forward a few yards before setting something down. Majic hadn't noticed he'd been carrying anything, but it looked like a soda bottle.  
  
Orphen moved back. "You might wanna back up a bit," he called over his shoulder. "The dust really flies with this attack."  
  
Majic nodded and scooted back, anxious to see the magic at work. The sun was now midway in the rising process, throwing a reddish glow upon everything. A soft breeze blew, tousling Orphen's hair and headband in the wind. Majic felt himself swallow; he felt tense simply watching, though he knew he'd seen it before... But it was Orphen, after all.  
  
The young man brought one hand up, tugging on his glove before his arms swung into position. Almost lazily, the incantation, "Ware wa hanatsu, hikari no hakujin," passed his lips.  
  
Majic had seen this attack before, back at the Tower, but it had certainly grown more powerful since then! It flew forward, a mere flash of blue-white light, and then the ground exploded. Dust went flying and Orphen turned, smug smirk on his face. "Nothing to it. Pretty cool, eh, Majic?"  
  
Though impressed it had improved, Majic still thought it was a bit much. He said so. "Um... Aren't you overdoing it, Orphen-sama?"  
  
Orphen sighed in annoyance. "Oshou-sama," he corrected for the second time. "Didn't I already tell you that?"  
  
Majic appeared embarrassed and diverted his gaze. "I'm sorry, Oshou-sama."  
  
Well, hopefully he could drill the name into the boy's head soon enough. After all, the honorary wasn't a problem, right? "Well, anyway," he continued, placing a friendly hand on the boy's shoulder, "We're talking years into the future before you can do THAT kind of magic." He was going to say more, but a faint whistling and thudding sound cut him off. He and the blonde boy turned to see the bottle he had been aiming for earlier now embedded in the dirt. Majic blinked rapidly and looked back up at him.  
  
"Isn't that the bottle you were aiming for, Oshou-sama...?"  
  
  
  
A good few hours later, sometime after noon, found Majic and Orphen near the Everlasting mansion. Orphen had climbed the branch a while ago, claiming it was the perfect spot to "see things." Majic was clueless as to what he was talking about, but figured he should complain... Too often.  
  
"Oshou-sama?" he called up, tilting his head back.  
  
"What?" came the vaguely annoyed reply.  
  
He shifted restlessly. "Why do we come here every day? Are you watching the Everlasting mansion?"  
  
Orphen hesitated before answering. "I'm birdwatching, Majic."  
  
The answer was so bizarre that even the gullible blonde boy didn't fall for it. "Birdwatching?" he repeated skeptically. "You, Oshou-sama?"  
  
"That's right," the brunette agreed, slanting his sienna-coloured eyes downwards. "Though I may not seem like it, I'm a lover of nature." As though trying to coincide with his excuse, a bird fluttered by. Majic was more than skeptical now, though the bird was a mere coincident of events. "Look, Majic, a starling," Orphen said triumphantly, pointing up. His expression went from smug to comic disbelief as a 'cuckoo' rang out.  
  
Majic sighed and shook his head, raising his arms in a shrugging gesture. "What a rare starling," he teased. "It cries cuckoo."  
  
Orphen opened his mouth to retort but seemed distracted by a figure on the mansion balcony some ways away. His gaze became focused there, and Majic couldn't bite back the surge of painful jealousy that washed over him. It was a girl, though at this distance it was hard to tell if she was Cleao, the youngest daughter, or Mariabelle, the eldest. Most likely Mariabelle, as Majic was quite sure Cleao wasn't back from boarding school just yet.  
  
Instead he forced a smile. "Birdwatching. I get it," he murmured.  
  
Orphen shot him a dark look. "Did you say something?"  
  
Majic shook his head. "No, nothing..."  
  
The young man didn't miss the awkward note on the younger boy's voice, but he ignored it by returning his gaze to the mansion. The girl was gone, but that was all right. She hadn't been his main focus anyway. Besides, the only thing he could think of when he looked at a female was, 'Azari was pretty, too... More so.'  
  
Yes, definitely more so.  
  
Majic got to his feet, distracting the older male. "Where're you going?"  
  
Blue eyes swung upward, giving him a mildly curious look. "I'm just going to go get something, Oshou-sama. I'll be right back."  
  
"Che," Orphen muttered, preparing to swing down. "I can't let you go alone; your father--"  
  
"I'm not a child!" Majic cried, startling the older male. The boy's hands were clenched into tight fists and he looked upset, though Orphen couldn't begin to guess why. "I can handle shopping on my own, Oshou-sama. I think I can find my way home alone, too!"  
  
Taken aback by the outburst, Orphen gathered his thoughts again and said, "Calm down, Majic."  
  
His apprentice blinked then reddened, realizing what he'd just done. "I'll be back," he mumbled before turning to run off as fast as his legs could carry him. Bewildered, Orphen was left in the tree, rubbing the back of his head in confusion.  
  
Well, it wasn't like the behavior was a strange thing; Majic had been acting edgy since that Christmas morning. The dark-haired sorcerer grimaced, remembering it all too well. Majic had screamed and waken up the entire tavern. People had come running, only to find him staring in horror at a mutilated baby pig in the front step...  
  
At first Bagup had been reluctant to explain the symbolism to his son, but it had gotten to the point where Majic couldn't go outside and see a young child without having a fit of hysterics. Orphen remembered coming in late one night, hearing murmurs from the boy's room right next to his own. Peering in granted him sight to an uncomfortable scene; Majic in tears with his father.  
  
Privacy was a must. Orphen had enough respect to leave them alone, and Majic had calmed down considerably, oddly enough. Perhaps truth was the key to helping him cope, after all. The kid wasn't made to live in denial, obviously.  
  
Orphen sighed inwardly. Taking the young boy under his wing as apprentice was proving almost more trouble than it was worth, but money was something he needed. Besides, he might require some amount of help on his planned journey... That is, if Bagup would allow his son to go with the likes of Orphen.  
  
"Oshou-sama?"  
  
Orphen looked down, raising an eyebrow. "What's that?"  
  
Majic returned the inquiring look, though his brow didn't arch with as much skill and made him look more worried than questioning. "What do you mean?" He stretched his hand up. "They're imperative for birdwatching."  
  
Orphen accepted the offering, turning it over. Binoculars? These were hard to find; where had he gotten one? He shrugged it off. It wasn't his concern. "Can't hurt to have them," he muttered, peering through the lenses. Now the mansion was magnified nearly fivefold. Great! Orphen couldn't believe he hadn't thought of borrowing such a device earlier... But again, they were hard to find.  
  
Majic sighed inaudibly, resuming his former place at the trunk of the tree. He was happy he could help out, and despite what he said he knew Orphen was really just keeping an eye out for news of the Sword of Baltanders. Dortin had been reporting to them faithfully each day (if you could call a wave signal "reporting") but Orphen insisted he was just enjoying the outdoors. Majic didn't know why he bothered.  
  
"Oshou-sama, what were you going to do if Miss Everlasting had given you the sword nine moons ago?"  
  
The silence that followed his question stretched to the point Majic was sure he wasn't going to answer, but then Orphen sighed heavily. "God... I dunno. I know Azari wants the sword, but I can't give it to her. She'll only make it worse."  
  
"How?"  
  
Orphen spared him a slanted amber glance. "It's impossible for either of us to control the power in that sword," he explained patiently. "She'll most likely only make it worse if she tries to stab herself again, but she probably doesn't--"  
  
"Again, Oshou-sama?"  
  
The brunette scowled. "Yes, again," he said tersely.  
  
Majic tilted his head back to look up at him. "Is that how--?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
The blonde boy flinched but fell silent. He shouldn't have asked so many questions, but he HAD been wondering about it for years now. That only proved that he'd have to learn his limits and watch them from now on.  
  
It couldn't have been more than five minutes later when a loud, piercing shriek sailed through the air. Majic's head jerked toward the mansion. After a long while he looked up at Orphen, who glanced his way ay the same time.  
  
"Wonder what's wrong...?" 


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Beginnings and Endings

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, possible shounen ai, mild language  
  
Notes: Eh heh... Look familiar? *sweatdrop* Well... Yeah. Um... I'm still trying to keep from following the episodes exactly, since things happened differently and Majic's actions, for the most part, will be different... But I'm also trying to stick to the episodes as best as possible. Make sense? No? That's all right; I don't get it either. ^_^;;  
  
Coupled with DBZ's song "Mind Power Ki," the end of this chapter is really freaky. oO;; Just thought I should mention that...  
  
  
  
  
"HEY!"  
  
Cleao Everlasting fumed inwardly, the anger quickly building up and being released through her mouth and actions. She pointed a finger at the young man in the tree, ignoring the cringing movements of the blonde boy nearby. "You!" she cried, her face bright red with both embarrassment and fury. "Yes, you! How dare you peep at a young virgin's nakedness?!" With that her arm flew swiftly to the sword on her right hand, sliding it from its sheath with obvious practice and aiming the point at the tousle-haired brunette.  
  
This had been far from what she'd expected on her second day home! Only yesterday had she finally returned to Totokanta and the weirdness had started from day one. First the huge hole in the road, though the most peculiar thing around there had been the soda bottle with a small hole at the bottom. Such a smooth, non-sharp edge was impossible to achieve without days of work, she knew, and such a small hole was near impossible! It had been most curious.  
  
Then, only this morning after waking and freshening up, she and her sister had sat down for their first morning tea since Christmas. Cleao had been at boarding school for the past ten moons, only coming back once to visit for Christmas. Their conversation had started off innocently enough, but when they reached the subject of Mariabelle's new love interest Cleao had been shocked. Her sister, in love with the Peeping Tom that stood before her now!  
  
The brunette blinked, appearing confused and scratching the back of his head. "Um... Look, I have no idea what this is about, but--"  
  
"Don't you lie!" she cut in, swinging the sword once to punctuate her statement. "I saw you, peeping through my window!"  
  
The young man heaved a sigh and jumped down from the tree. Cleao, startled by the grace of the movement, nearly lost her grip on the sword. But she tightened it once again; this man was a pervert, one that had embarrassed women the world over, she'd been told! This was no time to find him attractive!  
  
"You, perverted evil sorcerer!" the screeching voice of one of the Everlasting's new servants, cried as two rather short-looking brothers ran up. The eldest, Vulcan, wielded a mop as his weapon. Cleao raised an eyebrow; why was good work always so hard to find? "You dare peek at our lady's nakedness?! I'm going to squeak, squeak you to death!" Vulcan threatened, waving the mop at the brunette before him.  
  
"I suspect that's highly impossible," the younger, Dortin, demurred from behind, looking rather embarrassed for his brother.  
  
"Dortin! Don't you have something to say?!"  
  
"A-Ah... Well... I..."  
  
The young man closed his eyes, an amused smile on his face as he raised an arm, stretching his fingers out toward the midget brothers. "Ware wa hanatsu, hikari no hakujin," he chanted with swift simplicity. In the next instant an explosion rang out and the two were sailing through the air.  
  
Cleao allowed the point of the sword to fall to the ground, blinking rapidly as she stared after them. "Magic...?" This young man was a sorcerer? Something stronger than anger began to swell; curiosity and excitement. How amazing!  
  
Sorcerers weren't liked at all, this she knew. She was far from ignorant! But Cleao had always been one to go against the flow. She could look the part of an Everlasting, with her long, curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes, but her manners differed greatly. Unlike her sister, who practiced the home arts, she craved for adventure and excitement! She wanted to travel and see the world, be chased by monsters and see incredible things-- Magic was a major one of those incredible things, too!  
  
She shook her head. Wait! This wasn't the moment to be dazzled; this man had to be taught a lesson in decency, first! She brought the sword up, stopping the young man in his tracks. "Hold it right there!"  
  
He sighed, the faint traces of a tolerant smile still on his lips. "Don't worry about them. They're really hardy, you know." Then he glanced to the side, somewhat behind him and to the blonde boy, exchanging a knowing look. Cleao wasn't interested in that, though... What startled her was the profile.  
  
Oh, she recognized this all right! Last Christmas break, during her visit, she had gone for a swim in the lake. Granted, it had been quite cold, but the boarding school had been hot in comparison and it felt good. It had just looked so tempting and inviting; the moonlight reflecting silver off the mirror-like surface of the lake, stars sparkling above... So she had gone for a swim.  
  
She wasn't sure why, or what had compelled her to look up, but when she did she was granted with one of the most enchanting sights of her life.  
  
There, standing atop the half-sunken tower in the middle of the lake, stood a young man. Perhaps it had just been the romantic shining of night and moonlight, but he had been gorgeous! Her heartbeat had picked up its pace, racing as she slowly drank in the sight. His clothes were dark, though hard to see through the tattered cloak that billowed about him in the wind. His eyes had been gazing ahead, probably taking in the scenery, not minding the dark hair that occasionally flew in his eyes.  
  
Oh, yes, she definitely recognized this young man... The one she'd fallen for at first sight.  
  
Cleao felt her knees give out; the sword clattered to the ground beside her. "Oh, this is horrible," she whispered. "Of all the things for you to be... A Peeping Tom!"  
  
Tears filled her eyes as she heard him speaking from above. "One minute you're mad, now suddenly you're all blue... You're an awfully busy person."  
  
A new voice startled her into looking up, tears vanishing from her vision. "Are you Cleao?"  
  
She blinked, finally taking a good look at the nameless blonde boy she had only vaguely noticed earlier. He looked somewhat familiar... "Majic?"  
  
The amber-eyed man looked Majic's way. "You know this girl?"  
  
He shrugged, looking embarrassed for some reason. "Ah... We went to the same elementary school for a year or two after I came back. But more importantly, Oshou-sama..." His voice trailed off for a moment before he finished, "Do you know her?"  
  
Oshou-sama? Master? Cleao got to her feet, hand clenching the sword's handle. First her sister, then herself, now little boys?!  
  
"No idea," the young man said simply, shrugging and looking somewhat exasperated. "Among my acquaintances, I've never known one that held a sword with that bad of experience." At Majic's expression he snapped, "And besides, I wouldn't look at things like THAT--"  
  
Cleao fumed. This guy was certainly full of himself! "Things like that?! Things like WHAT?" she cried. "I'll have to know I was on the first string of fencing in my class!" She advanced on him, blue eyes narrowed and breathing hard. "To even let you catch my eye for a moment... I feel ashamed of myself!" She nearly missed the startled blush that rose on Majic's face... Nearly. What a curious reaction, she noted in the back of her mind.  
  
"Oshou-sama," Majic whispered anxiously, but was ignored by both parties.  
  
"Look," the young man said patiently, though it was clear his tolerance was being stretched beyond his comfort. "I'm telling you straight up, I wasn't peeping." He shrugged. "To begin with, I don't do things like that. Secondly--"  
  
Cleao's eyes narrowed on his left hand. "Oh? Then what's THAT?"  
  
He flinched, as though just remembering what he was holding. "Not good..."  
  
Majic edged closer to his master, appearing more anxious by the moment. "Oshou-sama--"  
  
He was still trying to protect him! Clearly this "Master" had the boy wrapped around his little finger. Cleao felt her eyebrow twitch and she launched herself at the offender, throwing all caution aside. "KYAA!" she cried, swinging the sharp blade at him. The sword was a bit heavy for her, but she was determined to teach him a lesson!  
  
To her utter surprise, he leapt back and avoided the blow neatly. He was fast, but she wasn't about ready to give up! Perhaps she could tire him out. Cleao renewed her hold on the hilt, swinging up with all the strength she could muster. It strained her shoulder muscle a bit beyond her comfort, but it irritated her even more that he'd dodged yet again. A few more good, well-aimed swings proved that he was a lot better than she'd given him credit for.  
  
"You're so squirrely," she complained, pausing to catch her breath and tug on a curl of hair.  
  
He gave her an exasperated look. "Geez," he muttered. "What a troubled kid..."  
  
Troubled? KID?! A drop of rain fell on Cleao's nose, but she ignored it. He seemed distracted for some reason, probably the oncoming rain clouds...  
  
"A chance!" she cried, swinging her sword down with all her might.  
  
Shock jolted through her arms and hands all the way to the pit of her stomach as he swung and brought his hands up with frightening speed. He was now clasping the blade with both hands, glaring up at her darkly. Cleao could only gape at him before he gave the sword a sharp jerk, throwing her off and to the ground. With her weapon in his hands, she felt defenseless.  
  
She propped herself up on her elbows, giving him a hurt look. Part of her was silently screaming that was unfair play, but another part said it couldn't be helped if he was stronger than she, more skilled... But he wasn't even looking at her. He was looking up at the sky with the most grim expression on his face.  
  
"Oshou-sama," she heard Majic whisper before he dodged around her, looking concerned. "Is it--?"  
  
"Yes," was the dark reply. He finally turned his head to look the younger boy in the eye, seeming to have forgotten about the girl on the ground behind them. When he spoke, however, Cleao found it exactly the opposite. "Take the girl and get to the mansion, got it, Majic? I don't need you two in my way."  
  
Cleao bristled at the notion of "being in the way" but was forced to put that aside for later stewing as she accepted Majic's offered hand.  
  
"What's going on?" she demanded as they rushed back toward the mansion. He kept his head down as though trying to avoid answering, but she wouldn't allow that. She looked up and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him toward a side door where they could surely hide for as long as they needed.  
  
"Hey," he protested. "Oshou-sama said--"  
  
"Quiet," she hissed. "We can watch from here."  
  
Majic didn't move to break away, but he did utter a feeble, "But Oshou-sama said to..." before trailing off. Obviously he was just as eager to see what was going on as her-- Though from the way the two had spoken earlier, he knew what was going on. Perhaps he was concerned for the Peeping Tom?  
  
"Who is that?" she asked, peering around the stone wall she had herself half hidden behind.  
  
Majic didn't move to look at her, his gaze fixed on the young man out in the dark. "My master," he explained. "He's my magic teacher."  
  
Cleao made an impatient gesture. "Yes, yes, that's fine and all, but what's his NAME?"  
  
"Orphen," he finally said after a hesitant pause. "He goes by Orphen."  
  
What a peculiar name! Cleao tilted her head to the side, blonde curls falling to her side. "So what's he doing? And what're those misty ghost things?" she added, pointing to the transparent ghoulish figures floating through the air.  
  
"I don't know... I mean, I only know a little," Majic stammered. "I know his overall intentions; I know what he wants to do, but..."  
  
Cleao sighed in frustration. Here was the setting of a great battle about to commence and no one was nearby to give her insight!  
  
"That is the Bloody August," a high-pitched, rarely heard voice rang out. The two blondes looked down in time to see Vulcan and Dortin running toward them, most likely seeking cover as well.  
  
"Bloody August?" Cleao repeated.  
  
"Eh? What's that?" Vulcan asked with outright ignorance. "What's this 'Brassiere Orchestra' thing?"  
  
Dortin edged behind Majic, warily eyeing the mist and darkness through his rounded glasses. "You don't know?"  
  
The young male beside him reached out to steady himself against the wall, tightening his grip anxiously. 'The Bloody August... Azari! But why is she called by such a horrid name now?' Dortin had launched into a dramatic explanation of the turn of events, but Majic tuned them out, more concerned with putting two and two together. 'How can Orphen-sama possibly save her with the same sword that made her this way? It doesn't make sense... Oh, I wish I understood!'  
  
"Ware wa hanatsu, hikari no hakujin!" the small group heard the sorcerer cry in the distance. The spirits hovering in front of him trembled and dissipated upon contact with the purple-tinted attack. This particular spell was a favorite of Orphen's; Majic had seen him first use it nine years ago, when he'd been four. It was the first spell he had managed to mimic successfully, even if it was minuscule in size and power.  
  
A crashing roar split the wind, causing Majic to flinch and reach up to cover his ears instinctively. Cleao was transfixed by the scene before her, too awed to think about being afraid. Majic spared a moment to wish he had that sort of courage, but the shriek of something inhuman sent shivers down his spine next.  
  
Then the sky cracked, as though it were a shattering mirror. Dark pieces fell, revealing a hellish red hole in the middle of the air. Now Majic was equally transfixed, though more with horror than fascination. 'Azari-san...?!'  
  
"Wow," Cleao whispered to his left. "This is amazing! A real dragon and sorcerer at my house, ready to battle... Amazing!"  
  
Majic had a sick feeling about the whole thing. He had no doubt Orphen would give it his best, and he certainly was strong! But if the best sorcerers at the Tower of Fangs couldn't bind her, who could? He had the utmost respect for his new master... But this was one thing Orphen was definitely overestimating himself on. Nevertheless...  
  
"Good luck, Oshou-sama," he whispered. 


	15. Epilogue: Watching From Afar

:: Satin Blaze ::  
  
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen  
  
Sequel to Velvet Flames  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.  
  
Rating: G  
  
Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, eventual Orphen/Majic  
  
Warnings: AU, shounen ai  
  
Notes: Eh... Weird ending, ne? ^^; But... *claps* This one's done, now we can skip on to the sequel! ^^; It won't be picking up here, though, it'll be sometime between episodes 4 and 5, and that's basically how most of the next fic will work.  
  
I think I need to set a new page limit... -.-;;  
  
Oh! I have something new to reccomend, this time a fic! It's called "Wise Beyond His Years" by Mina and it's THE BEST Orphen/Majic shounen ai fic I've ever read! And if you read it, make sure to let the author know if you liked it or not. Because it's well-written if nothing else, so I think she deserves at least that much.  
  
  
  
  
The young seer was blinded by the sudden vision. It wasn't the colour; there was no colour when searching with the mind. No, it had been the sheer shock... And what a shock it was.  
  
Rai got to his feet grimly, abandoning all pretense. Someone had to be told... Now.  
  
He fought not to appear anxious beneath his cloak as he swiftly made his way through the hallways of the Tower. There was so little time; Childman had to be warned--  
  
"Rai?"  
  
The single-eyed one stopped in his tracks, turning to face a concerned-looking Hartia. Childman's right arm... Of course.  
  
"The Bloody August is after the Sword," he murmured in such a voice that only Hartia could hear. No need to alarm the entire school; this was strictly private business and was to be kept that way. "It has found Krylancelo and the Sword in a town called Totokanta."  
  
Hartia paled so that his freckled stood out like dark specks on his white face. "I'll inform Childman right away. Thank you." He turned to leave but was halted by a firm grip on his wrist.  
  
"Hartia." Rai graced him with a rare glance, tilting his head so that the light caught his visible eye. "Be careful."  
  
Oddly touched and uncomfortable for a reason he couldn't explain, the taller sorcerer nodded. "I will. Thank you."  
  
Rai said nothing but did release him, his own arm dropping back to his side. His face fell back into shadow as the red-haired man disappeared and he couldn't help but feel melancholy. 'As Krylancelo is determined to protect Azari, I am to you now... Hartia.'  
  
His hand caressed the glimmering crystal orb in his hand, pressing it closer to his chest as a child would have a stuffed toy for comfort. He allowed himself a small inaudible sigh before he turned to leave. Hartia would faithfully deliver the message; this he knew. And he still had his job to think of.  
  
He could watch the battle from afar. 


End file.
